by C. De Melo
Lance practically ran the length of the hallway and ducked into the stairwell. Luckily, the door had a panel of mirrored glass that allowed him full view of his brother’s suite. Two minutes later, a beautiful and well-dressed woman walked out of the room holding a lit cigarette between her impeccably manicured fingertips. Something about her demeanor gave him the impression that she was an escort.
Michael closed the door and then bent his head and kissed her red lips in a familiar, intimate manner. They walked into the elevator and waited for the doors to open. Lance was stunned. He went downstairs to the lobby, and then outside. Earlier, he had lamented the fact that there would hardly be a moon that night because he loved to see it rising over Rio. Now, he was glad of it. The darkness offered him some protection as he stole to the front entrance of the hotel. A limo was waiting for Michael and his exquisite companion. Lance watched them enter the car and then saw the woman kissing Michael passionately as it drove off.
Lance’s wrist phone went off. It was Brady. “Here’s the scoop: there was an emergency during the night; some type of chemical leak that led to a system malfunction. We don’t have the details, but we know it has nothing to do with our investigation. Michael flew out from D.C. to personally assess the damage. He arrived in Rio around lunchtime and spent the entire afternoon at the lab.”
“Well, I’m standing outside my hotel and I just saw Michael leave with a Brazilian woman. I think she may be an escort.”
Brady frowned in irritation. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put?” he demanded. “What if he spotted you?”
“He didn’t.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. What do you want me to do?”
Brady sighed and thought for a moment. “Call your sister-in-law and get as much information from her as possible without giving up anything.”
Lance closed his eyes for a brief moment. The last thing he wanted to do was call Zoë after having seen his brother with another woman.
Brady frowned. “Lance, do you hear me?”
“I got it. I’ll call you back as soon as I have something.”
Lance ended the call and looked around again. He needed a drink before making the call. Michael would no doubt be gone for at least a couple of hours. Taking off the sunglasses, he walked back into the hotel and headed straight to the bar. An attractive woman smiled at him, but he barely noticed her as he took a seat. The bartender approached.
“Uma caipirinha, por favor,” Lance said.
***
The CCT scheduled snow for three o’clock in the afternoon. By three fifteen I had a cup of cocoa in my hand and watched fat, lazy snowflakes fall from the sky. My thoughts were racing. Maria and Carlos both had the day off. I waited until Juana went grocery shopping earlier this morning to search the garage and even the wine cellar for the missing trunk, but I found nothing. Where the hell was it? My wrist-phone buzzed and I assumed the call was from London, but instead it was Lance. He was wearing a baseball cap and a short sleeved shirt.
“Hey, Zoë!”
“Lance, what a nice surprise.”
“Is that snow I see over your shoulder?”
I held my wrist closer to the window. “Yes, isn’t it pretty? Where are you?”
“Costa Rica. I needed some sunshine. You and Michael should come meet me. It’s nice and warm here and the diving is great.”
“Sounds like fun, but Michael is away on business.”
“Really? I wanted to get his opinion on a real estate deal.”
“He’s in London. You have his number don’t you?”
“Of course, I do. I tried to call him several times but I keep getting his message box. That’s why I called you.” He paused and added, “No matter, I’ll talk to him eventually. So, what have you been up to, lately?”
I debated whether or not to tell him about the trunk. “Oh, nothing much.”
His brow creased in concern. “Are you all right, Zoë?” I nodded, but he appeared unconvinced. “Well, you have my number if you need anything,” he added.
“If Michael calls me I’ll let him know you’re trying to get in touch with him.”
“You do that. Oh, by the way, did he mention what he’s doing in London?”
I shook my head. “No, he usually doesn’t divulge details.”
“Right. I’ll call you later to check up on you. Stay warm and remember what I said; I’m here for anything you need, okay?”
“Thank you.”
Our eyes locked for a moment. Juana walked into the room and came to stand behind me.
“Hello, Juana,” Lance said cheerfully.
“Hello, Mr. Adams,” Juana said. “Excuse me, Mrs. Adams, I didn’t realize you were busy.”
“I was just saying goodbye,” Lance said.
“Thank you for calling,” I said.
The screen went blue. I turned my attention to Juana, irritated that she had interrupted our conversation. “What did you need to speak with me about?”
Juana looked smug. “Oh, I just wanted to know whether you preferred steak or chicken for dinner.”
“Surprise me.”
***
Lance called Brady after hanging up with Zoë.
“Well?” Brady asked.
“She has no idea what’s going on. Michael told her that he went to London on business and didn’t share any details.”
Brady nodded. “You didn’t mention anything that would tip her off that you’re in Rio, did you?”
“Of course not. You’ve got to give me more credit than that, Brady.”
“Just making sure.”
“What now?” Lance asked.
“Your presence in Rio may be discovered and compromise our investigation. We’ll get you out on the next plane. Maybe you should take advantage of your brother’s absence to pay Zoë a visit. Maybe you can sneak into his office again.”
Lance nodded.
“We’ll stay in touch,” Brady said. “There’ll be a ticket waiting for you at the airport. If you leave now you can make the next flight, which is in two hours. Have a safe trip.”
Lance quickly checked out of the hotel and hailed a cab. He looked forward to seeing Zoë again.
***
Later that night, Maddy and I sat in Babette’s Bistro. Located on the top floor of one of the new high-rises I had first noticed from the hospital window, the trendy French restaurant specialized in Provencal cuisine. The view of Capitol Hill and the White House dome was spectacular from such a great height. Our waiter had just uncorked a bottle of Bordeaux Blanc and was pouring its contents into two wine glasses.
“This was a great idea, Maddy. It’s so quiet at home without Michael.”
“I know, I’m glad you called me,” Maddy said before inhaling and tasting the wine. “Mmmm…this is good. The sommelier obviously knows his stuff.”
I tasted it and agreed. The fragrant white wine would go perfectly with the salade Nicoise we had ordered.
Maddy selected a piece of crusty bread from the basket. “When does Michael get back from London?”
“He called this morning to say he should be home in a couple of days.”
“That’s good.”
I helped myself to some bread, too. “Lance called me this afternoon.”
“Really? What’s he up to?”
“He’s in Costa Rica.”
Maddy sat forward in her chair and announced candidly, “He is so cute. Actually, he’s gorgeous.”
“Maddy!”
She cocked her head to the side and said, “Well he is.”
“I once asked him why you two never got together.”
She smiled broadly, as if the idea humored her. “And he said…?”
“He said you looked too much like me and it would be weird.”
Maddy’s eyebrows shot upward. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He didn’t mean it in a bad way…he thinks you’re- we’re- beautiful. He just meant that it would be strange, that’s
all.”
“Oh.”
“Why not ask him out?” I prompted. “You’re both single.”
She scrunched up her face and shrugged. Maddy was beautiful, smart and talented. And then I realized something.
“Why don’t you have a boyfriend, Maddy?”
She smirked. “I was wondering when you were going to ask that question.”
I felt ashamed for not having noticed sooner. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
I placed my head in my hands. “I’m a bad sister, huh?”
“Nonsense! Gee, Zoë, give yourself a break. In the last ten months you basically came back from the dead, played a twenty year catch-up game, been constantly bombarded by the media and recently lost your mother. My love life is rather insignificant compared to that, don’t you think?”
I reached across the table for Maddy’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
The waiter came out with two huge salads. “Bon Appétit,” he said.
We looked down at our dinners. Fresh organic lettuce topped with ripe tomatoes, green beans, olives, boiled eggs, rare tuna, anchovies and homemade vinaigrette. We both poured extra olive oil on our meals and added some ground black pepper before digging in.
Maddy speared a piece of tuna with her fork and put it in her mouth. “Yum.”
“Well?” I asked.
She stopped chewing and looked up at me. “It’s delicious.”
I laughed. “Not the tuna. Boyfriend. Why don’t you have one?”
“Oh, that. Zoë, I’m gay.”
I stared at my sister in surprise.
“Never suspected, did you?” she asked.
“No…I mean, I remember you having crushes on boys in high school.”
“Yeah, well, that phase ended when I went to college and finally came out of the closet.”
I was saddened by the fact that I had missed this important part of my sister’s life. “How did mom and dad take it?”
Maddy shrugged. “Dad seemed to take it a little harder than mom, but they were both supportive. I think they must have suspected I didn’t like men.”
“I completely understand, trust me. I mean, I know I got lucky with Michael, but some of my ex-boyfriends were real duds.”
She cocked her eyebrow. “Oh, I remember all too well.” I laughed at her candidness and she asked, “You really had no clue?”
I shook my head. “I just assumed you were heterosexual because you’ve always wanted children.”
“I have every intention of having them in the future. I just don’t want a father in the picture. The truth is I simply have no stomach for men.”
“So, do you plan to visit a sperm bank when the time comes?”
Maddy took a sip of wine. “Oh, Zoë, it’s so easy to have a child now! Just like going through the cafeteria line. There’s this big computer that takes your information; age, occupation, salary and so forth. Then, the computer does a thorough background check to see if you have any criminal records or history of abuse or anything like that. If everything checks out and you are approved, you may then proceed to create your custom baby.”
I stopped chewing. “A custom baby?”
Maddy nodded and placed a forkful tomato into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed before speaking again. “The computer asks your input on a series of questions such as preferred sex, race, eye color and hair color. Once you have chosen those, you can then pick the donor who complements your genes. For example, let’s say I was creative and artistic; I might want to pick a brainy doctor or a professor to be the father to balance it out. You can pick a donor for their academic abilities or their talents. It’s truly amazing.”
I sat back and drank some wine. “When was this system placed in effect?”
“About five years ago. They just came out with an egg bank two years ago. It’s for men who don’t wish to have a woman involved. It’s only fair.”
“Do they hire surrogates to carry the child?”
“No, too many lawsuits and custody issues. Everything is done inside a lab with an artificial womb.”
“How fascinating…”
“Michael was behind that, you know.”
I sat up straight. “Really?”
“Yes. He funded the same research team that found a cure for the Pod. Since so many women were dying and becoming sterile, scientists frantically searched for ways to create synthetic female reproduction. Those were scary times, Zoë. Be glad that you slept through it.”
“The country was afraid of being wiped out?”
“You bet. Americans feared extinction from the Pod. Can you imagine? I have to admit, the terrorists created a brilliant weapon; a virus that either killed a woman or made her sterile. They went straight for the most precious natural resource- the female population.”
“Brilliant, but terrifying,” I pointed out.
Maddy and I continued to enjoy our salads as she regaled me with tales of the past. We ended the night with decadent crème brûlée and the promise to see each other again very soon.
***
Lance visited the Ashford Gallery the following day. I was in the middle of speaking with a client about a new painting. I nodded to him and smiled. He held up his hand as if to say take your time. Ten minutes later, my client received a call and had to leave. She promised to return next week with her designer. I bade her farewell and walked up to Lance.
“Good morning,” I said, feeling oddly glad that I’d chosen to wear a fitted black skirt and crisp white shirt. I looked professional and feminine.
“So, is she buying the painting?” he asked with a playful smile.
“She wants her designer to see it first, but I think she will.”
“Congrats.”
“Thanks. So, how was Costa Rica?”
He feigned a shiver and pulled his wool coat tighter across his chest as he looked at the snow outside. “Hot.”
“And the real estate deal?” Lance looked at me blankly, so I prompted him. “You wanted to speak with Michael about real estate, remember? Did you manage to get a hold of him?”
“Oh, yeah…that. I decided not to buy.”
“Why not?”
“The heat in the summer is unbearable and there are too many bugs.”
“I would think the CCT would solve that problem.”
“The CCT is a very expensive luxury and not available in many countries. Costa Rica is one of them.”
I frowned. “Oh, I assumed that the CCT was worldwide.”
“It’s available worldwide, but only if a government can afford it.”
“I see.”
“But I’m not here to discuss the CCT, I’m here to ask you out to lunch.”
I looked at him wistfully. “Lance, how sweet of you…”
“I can tell by your tone the answer is no.”
“I just got back from lunch a half hour ago and I’m alone at the gallery. Nancy wasn’t feeling well so she went home. She’s going through a tough pregnancy.”
“Isn’t there a college intern working here, too?”
“Suzie? She was here this morning and has the afternoon off. Can I take a rain check?”
Lance looked disappointed. “Sure thing. I’ll see you around.”
He turned to go and I couldn’t help but stare at his broad, muscular shoulders moving away from me. “Lance?” I called out, almost involuntarily.
He turned around. “Yes?”
“We can have a drink later,” I blurted out.
He walked towards me again. “When and where?”
“I’m off at seven,” I replied. “Why don’t you come by the house?”
“Great, I’ll be there.”
***
I left the gallery and went straight home. I had enough time to freshen up and relax a bit before Lance’s car pulled up the drive. As I walked to the front door to let him in, I was surprised by the butterflies in my stomach. He greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and I led him into the living room. After
I fixed a couple of cocktails, we got comfortable on the sofa. Juana was in the kitchen preparing dinner and Lance sniffed the air.
“Smells good,” he said.
“You’re more than welcome to stay for dinner,” I said.
He grinned. “Thank you, I’d love to. I’d be crazy to pass up Juana’s cooking.”
“And I won’t have to eat alone again.”
His face grew serious. “Michael is gone a lot, isn’t he?”
“Yes, but I’m used to it.”
“Have you heard from him?”
“He calls every morning, but it’s always very brief.”
He stretched his long legs. “You said he was in London?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know why?”
I shook my head. “He never tells me anything.”
He glanced towards the kitchen before leaning towards me. “Don’t you get tired of being in the dark all the time?” He immediately sat back and added, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, you’re right. I am indeed tired of not knowing anything about my husband…and of being treated like a child,” I admitted. It felt wonderful getting that off my chest, too.
“Well, he treated me like a kid for years so I can totally sympathize.”
I wanted to tell him about the trunk, but Juana might overhear me. Maria was also in the house somewhere, perhaps doing laundry or ironing. I simply couldn’t risk it; at least not today. Hopefully, another opportunity would present itself soon.
“Zoë”
Lance was looking at me expectantly. “Huh?”
“You totally spaced out for a moment,” he said.
“Sorry. What were you saying?”
He studied me for several seconds. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine…here,” I said, taking his glass. “Let me refresh our drinks.”
I walked to the bar and he followed me. “I’m going to use the bathroom if that’s okay.”
“Sure.” Rather than use the one closest to the living room, he walked off in the direction of Michael’s office. ‘Hey, there’s a bathroom right around the corner.”