by Lynsay Sands
After setting her coffee on the table, Mary retrieved her sandwich from the front dashboard where it still sat. She had just picked up the plate, and had started to turn back toward the table when she spotted her phone. Dante had obviously put it back in its holder before taking Bailey out, she thought and snatched that up as well. She carried both items to the table and slid onto one of the dinette's booth seats to eat.
Even after having sat out for half an hour or so, the sandwich was as good as it had first looked and Mary found herself gobbling it down. It seemed like no time before she finished the first half, and that's about the time that she began to realize how much she'd needed to eat. It was almost nine now, which meant it had been almost nine hours since lunch. Her brain had obviously needed the nutrients, because it was suddenly thinking more clearly than it had since she'd run over Dante. The day's events ran through her head like a film and she began to get more and more uncomfortable as it went. She had a complete stranger traveling with her, one who was slightly delusional and possibly dangerous.
Where was he going to sleep tonight?
And how well was she going to sleep with him in the RV with her?
Mary sat back at the table with a frown, and then her gaze dropped to the phone and she recalled the calls he'd made. Three of them in all, she thought. Picking up the phone, she opened it to the recent calls page and peered at the number he'd called.
The area code was 416. It had seemed familiar when he'd first spoken it to her, but now it suddenly clicked in. Toronto, she thought. Her daughter lived there and had that area code. FBI based in Canada? Mary's mouth tightened and she tapped the number, making the phone redial it.
Six
Mary pressed the phone to her ear and listened to it ring, then stilled when a ring was prematurely silenced and a male voice snapped, "Speak Dante."
Biting her lip, she glanced toward the open window and then cleared her throat and asked, "Who am I speaking to?"
When silence came to her through the phone, she recalled what Dante had said earlier and asked, "Is this Lucian?"
"Yes," he said finally, his voice wary but edged with concern. He asked sharply, "Did Dante's kidnappers recapture him?"
Mary's eyes widened slightly. When she'd realized it was a Toronto area code, she'd thought for sure everything Dante had said was lies or delusions, but it seemed that part, at least, was true.
"Hello?" the man snapped after a moment.
Realizing she hadn't answered him, Mary cleared her throat and said, "No."
"He's hurt then?" the man asked next, his voice sharp.
Mary hesitated, and then sighed and said, "I think so."
"You think so? What the hell do you mean you think--?"
"I ran over him with my RV," Mary rushed out, interrupting his caustic words. "And I think he may have taken some damage to his head."
Silence came down the line at her in response and Mary frowned and continued, "Look, he told me he's working for a task force looking into a case where several young people have been disappearing from bars in the San Antonio area."
"Yes," came the calm response this time when she paused and Mary frowned uncertainly.
"That's true?"
"Yes," Lucian said again.
Mary sat back in her seat. So that hadn't been some sort of delusion of Dante's. He really had been kidnapped while trying to find out who was kidnapping these unknown people in San Antonio, she thought, then frowned with confusion and said, "But you're in Canada. Why would a task force looking into kidnappings in Texas be based in Canada?"
There was a pause and then he said simply, "It's an international case."
Mary waited for further explanations. For him to tell her that both the Feds and the Canadians were working the case together, that perhaps Canadians were amongst those who had gone missing, but he didn't say anything.
Sighing her frustration, she shook her head, and then said, "Okay, so he really is helping out this task force, and he really was kidnapped and escaped his kidnappers. But the kid thinks he can control minds."
"He told you that?" Lucian snapped, his voice so sharp and hard, Mary actually pulled the phone away from her face a bit.
She peered at the broken glass of the phone face, her eyebrows rising slightly. That had certainly got a reaction. Putting the phone back to her ear, she said, "Yes, he told me that. Crazy huh?"
There was another silence and then the man cursed on the other end of the phone and muttered, "He shouldn't have told you that . . . and he wouldn't have told you that unless . . ." Despite the fact that he'd spoken aloud, Mary suspected he'd been talking to himself. She doubted he even realized she'd heard what he said, but then his voice grew louder and he suddenly asked, "What else did he tell you?"
Mary tilted her head, her gaze on the second half of the sandwich the fingers of her free hand were picking at.
"Nothing. What else should he have told me?" she asked quietly.
The question was met with silence again.
Sitting up a little straighter, Mary tightened her grip on the phone and said, "Surely you aren't suggesting that Dante really can read and control people's minds?"
Rather than answer the man asked, "Why are you helping him?"
Mary paused, nonplussed by the question, but after a moment, said, "Because I ran him over."
"So, out of guilt," he suggested.
"No," she said quickly and then grimaced. "Well, maybe a little because of guilt. But also because he just needs help. I mean he's being chased by kidnappers and he was bare arsed, and I could hardly leave him at the truck stop naked like that. Not that I actually wanted to help him to begin with," she admitted honestly, aware that she was babbling, "but it was that or let him steal my RV, and no one is stealing my RV."
"Commandeering."
"What?" she asked with bewilderment.
"Dante would not have stolen your RV. He would have commandeered it for the purposes of aiding in the investigation. We would have seen to it that it was returned with compensation for its use."
"Right," she said dryly. Taking it was taking it no matter whether you called it stealing or commandeering. It still would have left her high and dry in the middle of Texas with no way home.
"So," Lucian said slowly, "You haven't felt any sort of . . . er . . . compulsion to help? It was just out of the goodness of your heart?"
"Compulsion?" Mary asked, eyes narrowing. "You mean like mind control?
Silence was again her answer.
"Surely you aren't suggesting he really can control minds?" she asked with a nervous laugh.
"Apparently not yours or we would not be having this conversation," he said dryly.
"What?" she squawked.
A sigh slid through the phone and he said, "He should not have revealed his special skills. This is all highly top secret and not for public knowledge. Where is he? Not there I presume or he would not have let you make this call."
"Let me?" she growled. "Mister, this is my phone. And I'm an adult. Nobody gets to tell me what I can or can't do anymore."
"Sadly, I have to tell you that is not true and inform you that should you repeat anything Dante has revealed to you to anyone, anyone at all, the ramifications for you would be rather unpleasant."
Mary stilled and pulled the phone back to peer at it again. Was that a threat? Putting the phone back to her face, she snapped, "Did you just threaten me?"
"I do not threaten," he assured her. "I am merely making you aware of your precarious position. The knowledge you have is dangerous and I will do whatever is necessary to ensure it spreads no further."
His voice was so cold and matter of fact it was hard not to believe every word he said, and Mary began to worry what that "whatever is necessary" might extend to. Arrest? Her disappearing? Death?
"Judging from the change in your breathing, I gather you understand me. Good. Have Dante call when he returns from whatever task he is performing."
It took Mary a mome
nt to realize that the silence that followed this time was because he'd ended the call without bothering to say good-bye or otherwise indicate he was done with the conversation. Lowering the phone, she stared at it briefly, noting that her hand was shaking, and then tossed it onto the table as if it were a snake she'd suddenly found in her hand.
Mary watched it slide across the table's smooth surface, but did nothing to stop it when it slid off the opposite edge onto the bench seat across from her. In fact, she felt a little better once it was out of sight.
Shifting her gaze to her sandwich, she stared at it briefly, then stood and carried the plate over to dump the uneaten half of her supper into the garbage under the sink. Mary then set the plate in the sink and turned to survey the RV. Her gaze slid around, but then settled on the couch. It was a long couch, presently with an arm across the first of the three sections of the couch. Mary moved to it, grabbed the arm and pulled it toward her. A lower section of couch immediately slid out to turn the couch into an L shape. Mary then shifted in front of this new section and caught the canvas handle sticking out of the top. She tugged it up and back, lifting the seat out of the base and up into position. She then slid the front of the remaining two panels out and set the pillows in place, turning it into a bed that was actually a little bigger than the one in the bedroom.
Mary wasn't sure it would be long enough for Dante to sleep in without curling up a bit, but it was the best she could do for him, and it was bigger than the actual bed she slept in, so she turned and went into the bedroom to fetch sheets, pillows and a blanket. They were stored in the base of the built-in bed. Mary bent, caught the wooden top of the bed base and lifted it. It rose like the lid of a chest, mattress and all. A handy feature she'd always appreciated.
She quickly collected what she needed, then set them on the side of the couch-bed before turning back to push the mattress back down into place, closing the chest-like storage space. Aware that Dante should return soon, Mary was quick about making up the bed. She'd just finished putting the last pillow in place when the RV door opened.
Bailey was the first to enter, bounding in, practically vibrating with excitement. The dog immediately leapt up on the couch-bed to cross to her and lick her face.
"Yes, yes, I'm happy to see you too," Mary murmured, catching the dog's head between her hands and massaging her behind the ears as she pressed a kiss between her eyes. "Now," she said, releasing her, "get off Dante's bed. He doesn't want to be sleeping in dog fur."
Bailey gave Mary's arm a swipe with her tongue, then bounded to the floor and jumped immediately up onto the bed in the bedroom where she curled into a ball and lay down, apparently all ready to go to sleep.
Mary raised her eyebrows. "What? You don't want supper?"
"I fed her before we went for a walk," Dante said quietly.
Mary turned back to the room to peer at Dante and noted that while the RV usually seemed large with the slide-outs open, his presence seemed to fill all that extra space now and make it smaller. Honestly, he was a mountain of a man, a big pink and white mountain. It wasn't just that he was six feet eight, but he was as wide as a football player with padding on. Realizing she was staring, Mary dropped her gaze, and found herself looking at her phone on the dinette booth seat. Eyes widening, she blurted, "You're supposed to call Lucian."
"He called?" Dante asked with obvious relief, turning toward the driver's seat behind him, no doubt looking for the phone he'd placed back in its holder.
"It's on the dinette seat," she told him, and then admitted, "And no, he didn't call. I called him."
Dante had turned to grab the phone off the seat beside him. Straightening with it in hand, he raised his eyebrows. "You called him?"
Mary nodded apologetically.
"Why?" he asked softly.
Mary grimaced, her gaze shifting away from him, but then drawn irresistibly back. Sighing, she shrugged helplessly and admitted, "Because I thought you were a crackpot."
His mouth dropped open at her honesty and she smiled wryly.
"Well, you were claiming you could read and control minds," she said as if that should explain her reasoning, but realizing that since he apparently could read and control minds, that wasn't as convincing a reason as she'd first thought. Grimacing, she said, "I've never heard of anyone being able to do that in real life. It made me start to doubt everything else you'd told me."
"So you called Lucian?" he asked solemnly. "Why did you not call the mortal police?"
Mary blinked at the term. Mortal police? Who the hell called the police mortal police?
"Mary?" he asked. "Why did you not just dial 911?"
She hesitated and then shrugged helplessly. "I didn't want to get you in trouble, so I thought I'd just see who you called and find out what I could and go from there."
"I see," he murmured, and then added softly, "Thank you for that."
Mary shifted uncomfortably and then straightened her shoulders and gestured to the phone. "You should call him back."
"Yes," Dante glanced down at the phone. "I need to find out if they got Tomasso out. Excuse me."
Turning, he stepped down to the door, opened it and slipped outside.
The RV suddenly seemed to have a lot more room again, and a lot more air too. Mary took in a deep breath, feeling like it was the first she'd drawn in since he'd entered, then turned to slip into the bedroom and close the door. She'd had a long day, and quite enough of her guest for now. She needed her own space and sleep.
She moved around the end of the bed, petting Bailey in passing, and then slipped into the bathroom. Her robe and the old T-shirt she wore as a nightgown hung from a hook beside the door. Mary left them there for now and unlatched the lock on the shower door that was to prevent it sliding around while the RV was in motion. Leaning in then, she turned on the taps to start the shower, then turned to collect a towel, shampoo, soap and a washcloth from the cupboard. The water was already warm by the time she accomplished that, and Mary stripped and stepped into the shower. She was usually quick about showers in the RV, but not tonight. Tonight she stood under the warm, soothing spray until it had washed all her tension away.
When she finally got out, Mary dried herself and pulled on the T-shirt she'd been wearing to bed. It was one of her husband's old T-shirts. While not as big as Dante, he'd been a good-sized man, six feet with nice shoulders. His T-shirt was big enough on her that it reached almost to her knees. She brushed her teeth and hair, and then turned to open the door. It was as she flicked off the bathroom light that her gaze landed on her husband's closet. Mary peered at it silently, then glanced to the bedroom door.
She doubted very much if her clothes were comfortable for Dante. He didn't seem to mind their femininity, but surely with their being so tight he'd have trouble sleeping? Besides, while he didn't seem to mind wearing pink pants and flowered T-shirts, she really didn't want to explain it to her friends. One look would be enough for them to know they were hers.
Hopefully it had been too dark out for anyone to really see what he was wearing when he took Bailey for her walk, she thought with a frown, and then opened her husband's closet door to consider the items inside. She then opened the top drawer beneath it to check out its contents as well.
Mary ended up pulling out a pair of dark blue cotton pajama bottoms, a pair of faded jeans she wasn't sure would fit him, a pair of grey joggers that definitely would fit better than hers, and both a black T-shirt and a white one. Mary headed for the door then, but paused as she remembered she was wearing only the T-shirt. Muttering under her breath, she set the clothes on the bed, opened her own closet to retrieve her robe and pulled it on. After quickly tying the sash of the robe, she collected the clothes again and opened the bedroom door.
Mary wasn't surprised to find that Dante was finished with his phone call. She was a bit surprised, however, to find him seated on the side of the bed, face in his hands and shoulders slumped.
Setting the clothes on the corner of the couch-b
ed, she moved up beside him and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. "Dante? What's wrong?"
When he didn't answer right away, or even raise his head, she bit her lip, and then ventured, "Your brother?"
He sucked in a deep breath at that and straightened where he sat. "The house was empty when they got there."
"So your kidnappers managed to leave us and get back to the house before your people could get there?" she asked with a frown.
Dante shook his head. "No. What with the investigation and everything, most of the team is in the area. Lucian says there was someone at the spot on the road within ten minutes of my giving him your directions, and it only took them moments to find the house. There must have been more kidnappers at the house. They must have moved him while the others came after me. Probably to make sure that nothing would be found there if I got to authorities before they could catch up to me."
"I see," Mary said quietly, then sat down on the couch-bed beside him and rubbed his shoulder gently. "I'm sorry." It was all she could say. She wasn't stupid enough to think there was anything that was going to make him feel better just now. Tomasso was his twin . . . and he'd left him behind and escaped alone. He had been right to do so, but it wasn't likely to make him feel better or lessen his guilt at getting away while his brother didn't.
"Lucian is collecting a group to fly down to Venezuela to see what they can find," he muttered unhappily.
"Venezuela?" Mary asked with surprise and he glanced at her with surprise of his own.
"Did I not tell you that Tomasso had been awake longer than me and had overheard them talking above stairs about our being transported to Venezuela?" he asked, and then muttered, "I thought I had."
"You might have," Mary allowed quietly. "My memory isn't as good as it used to be." Smiling wryly, she added, "And, I was a bit stressed out when we were first talking. I maybe didn't take in everything."
"Oh." Dante nodded and bowed his head again, muttering, "My apologies. I did not mean to distress you."
Mary frowned. The last thing he should be worrying about right now was any stress all of this had caused her. Besides, he sounded so defeated. Taking a deep breath, she stood abruptly and clapped her hands together. "All right then. I guess we'd best get moving."