Toad in the Hole (17 page)

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Authors: Paisley Ray

Tags: #The Rachael O'Brien Chronicles

BOOK: Toad in the Hole
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Climbing a winding staircase, we emerged onto a second floor. I scanned the back of the heads in the audience, looking for a familiar ponytail accompanying a head of silky white hair fashioned with a jewel-encrusted barrette. A wave of crowd chatter rolled inside the theatre, with an occasional loud cackle that echoed to the roof with acoustical mastery. The lights began to fade as a second usher spoke to me.

“Please take your seats,” he said as he handed me a show pamphlet.

The theater darkened and downward steps were lit with a soft glow of inset lighting.

“Can you see them?” I asked Travis.

“It’s too dark.”

The usher placed a guiding hand on my back. “You’re in seats fifteen and sixteen, four rows down.”

“Thank you,” I said mechanically as I concentrated on our seat location and who was sitting next to them.

There were four empty stadium seats. Flicking the velvet cushion down, I began to settle myself in when I noticed an envelope labeled
Will Call for Rachael O’Brien
pinned to my seat.

Travis strained his neck in all directions. I squinted to my right. A young Asian couple next to me whispered in Chinese. To Travis’s left, past two empty seats, were two middle-aged women. The one closest to him wore an oversized graffiti tee that draped off her shoulder in a Flashdance style. Definitely not GG. Not a familiar face behind us or in front.

The light disappeared, the curtains opened and the crowd grew silent. Waves of nausea rolled in my chest and I sunk my head into my hands.

“Rachael, are you okay?” Travis mumbled in my ear.

My face crushed the program and the envelope as reality sunk in hard and fast. My grandmother, whom I barely knew, had deserted me. I wanted to like her. I did like her. She was so different from my mother. I thought she cared and I’d looked forward to getting to know her on this trip. But she hadn’t been on this trip. Day two, she ditched Travis and me. What was it with the women in my life? The ones who by their very titles—mother, grandmother—were supposed to care? I sat up and smoothed the envelope that had crumpled under my cheek.

“Shit. I’m gonna have to call Dad.”

“Shhhhhh.” Someone behind me hissed.

Travis blew a hard breath and said, “Stay put until intermission.”

Our seats were good. Middle tier balcony, bird’s-eye view, no obstacles. I should’ve enjoyed seeing the play being enacted on the stage, but I kept shifting my weight, moving my elbow, gnawing my cheek, and futzing with my eye of Horus necklace. The gentleman next me, I noticed, wore a wristwatch that cast a small illuminated circle onto my lap. My eyes scanned everything but the stage. The two people to the right, the six touristy types in front of us, the two younger guys in front of them. I couldn’t help but to keep searching for GG’s or Edmond’s profile.

I glanced at Travis. He cracked a limp smile, knocked my knee with his, and then refocused on the actors. I thumbed the corners of the crumpled seal on the envelope and opened it. A slip of paper fell on my lap. Inside the black-ceilinged theatre with limited lighting, I couldn’t even see the color of my jeans. As casually as possible, I held the note close to the man in the next seat, but the glow from his wristwatch was hidden under his shirt cuff. Minutes later, he shifted his hand to his mouth to suppress a cough and his sleeve pulled back enough to illuminate the piece of paper.

Looked for you in Oxford. We’re detained here.

Need to see a chiropractor as Edmond’s put his back out.

Don’t worry, nothing serious
.

 

My grandmother hadn’t abandoned me. Taking the Union Canal with Sonny had kept us apart.
Freakin’ old man. If he had spilled the beans in London we could’ve skipped the whole canal diversion, dovecot adventure
. Pushing bitterness aside, my heart leapt. The
We
meant she and Edmond. Looking to the ceiling I exhaled relief.
They were okay
.

The Blue Boar Inn on the High Street at sunrise. Have lots to share.

Look out for Callahan, I sent him ahead.

 

That last line miffed me. The boating trip had me worn out. I never signed up for this scavenger hunt and didn’t appreciate being played across English rivers, canals, and countryside as though I were a chess pawn.

The crowd roared as the Shakespeare comedy continued. I didn’t find it funny. I didn’t find any of this funny.

My elbow knocked Travis. Absorbed in the theatrics, he didn’t budge. Sliding my hand behind his neck, I leaned in. “I have to go.”

“Can’t you hold it until intermission?”

“We have to go.”

“I don’t have to go.”

I was out of my seat and climbing over legs. Without looking, I could feel his annoyance upon my back. Crouching down, I tiptoed past shoes and purses then made my way up the stairs and waited a beat for him.

“Are you sick or something?” he asked.

That was plausible
.

Grabbing his hand, I led us through the black double doors, careful not to let them slam.

“That performance was good. I was actually enjoying it,” he began.

“I can’t sit still until we find Callahan. I’m sure Edmond’s detainment had to do with what’s inside the brooch,” I said, and trotted down the staircase into the lobby, where an attendant by the door started her rehearsed script. “If you leave, you may not…”

The sky had settled into night and a haze from the river left shadowed phantoms across the landscape. I bolted toward a flat grassy patch, dotted by trees.

“Rachael. What’s going on?”

I showed him the note. “Callahan is on his way, I want to find him.”

Travis in tow, I headed for the far side of the grass. We were under the foliage of a tree with a canopy the size of a carnival tent and my ankle twisted.

Travis picked up a couple of baseball sized jagged nuggets off the ground. “Conkers.”

“What?”

“Sonny told us about them.”

I wasn’t in a reminisce-about-Sonny kind of mood.

He stuffed some spikey balls into his pockets.

Moving toward the canal, my mood swung. A moment ago I was elated to know GG and Edmond were safe. Now I felt anxious and wanted the story.

Not so silently, Travis followed. “This whole trip was a ruse.”

“For what?”

“For alone time,” he said.

Had Travis figured out that I fantasized about him?

“GG and Edmond are romantically involved. I’m sure of it. The boat ride down the Thames was one big ploy to get us out of the way so they could be together.”

Was it so bad, he and I being alone?

I checked over my shoulder, there was no one but us. The closer we came to the water, more dense layers of fog hovered. “That’s a total stretch of your imagination.”

“I’m not the one with the overly creative apparitions.”

The boats lining the shore creaked and groaned on the silent ebb of the water. With
Her Grace
just a few hundred yards away, we scurried along the dirt path that ran parallel to the canal.

Abruptly stopping, I pivoted on my heel and Travis crashed into me. A heavy mist wrapped around us and in a sharp whisper I said, “You’re preoccupied with GG and Edmond. Maybe you need to focus on your own feelings.”

Momentarily silenced, closing his open jaw, he began, “What…”

Before he could continue in the foggy silence, I closed the space between us. His chin tilted down and mine up, our lips met and his beard stubble sanded the corners of my lips. Inside, my nerves endings zipped and pinged. Within Travis’s embrace, the anxiety I’d trapped in my neck and shoulders released and for a moment, my brain stopped over-thinking everything. Pressed together, something prickly near his front pants pocket jabbed me and I stepped back, his arms releasing me.

In an effort to break the quiet before it became awkward, I rubbed my thigh and whispered, “What have you got in your pants?”

We both looked to the impressive bulge in his trousers and laughed. He reached into a pocket and pulled out two green conkers.

“Rachael, what are we doing?”

Being chased, not knowing where we were going, and unable to find my grandmother in a foreign country made me vulnerable and I guessed he was, too. “I don’t know. Let’s go back to the boat, read the note, and figure out where the High Street and the Blue Boar is located.”

Wrapping an arm around my shoulder, he walked beside me along the river. The moored boats lay dark in the water and I had trouble gauging where we’d anchored ours. I was about to ask Travis if he remembered, when he slid his hand over my mouth, pulling me off the path, and up a slight hill.

I didn’t know what he had in mind and was intrigued.

From the cover of another large chestnut tree I heard the mumble of voices carry upwards.

“Someone’s on our boat,” he said.

“Callahan?” I asked, figuring he’d arrived.

“Doesn’t sound like him,” Travis said.

Straining my ears, I heard voices of two males carry up the slope. I worried that they were Ahmed’s men, but these were real British accents. It was impossible to see the trespassers, but the conversation and the glow of their moving flashlights on deck gave them away. Feeling my legs lock, I clutched Travis’s arm. Why were we still being followed? I didn’t have the brooch.

“What do you want to do?” I asked

“Maybe we should confront them.”

“You want to march up and say ‘Hey, foggy night, isn’t it? What are you doing on our boat?’”

Travis pondered my comment. “They may not have anything to do with GG or the brooch. They may be boat robbers.”

A throaty breath escaped me. “It’s not like we have anything for them to steal. I have the leftover cash with me. There’s nothing on board but our clothes, some food.”

“My backgammon game.”

I’d seen enough matches between Sonny and Travis. “Let’s just go and try to find a bed and breakfast.”

“There’s one thing we can’t leave behind.”

“I’ll buy you another backgammon board.”

“The painting I won from Sonny. Rachael, it’s important, right?”

 

NOTE TO SELF

We Kissed?!

 

 

 

CHAPTER 24

 

T
aking
t
he
B
iscuit

 

 

I
f I had to choose a between a trip to Alaska or Hawaii, hands down Hawaii. Stripping off my shirt and pants, I left them on shore and lowered myself into the bleak river water between two narrowboats. This dunking was probably overreacting, but I wasn’t so sure.

I had a bad feeling about the intruders on our boat, and sneaking onto
Her Grace
, unnoticed, then leaving undetected was the best solution we’d come up with. Travis would provide the distraction while I retrieved the painting Sonny had “lost” to him. I’m no daredevil, and normally won’t delve into water any cooler than a lukewarm bath, but this was different. Under the guise of principle, I tolerated dipping into the brisk Stratford-upon-Avon River. The oyster brooch had been stolen and underneath my skin, and I was miffed at myself for being so careless. But now Travis had something of value that could help lead us to whatever King Edward and Wallis had left behind. The painting was still within reach and I was going to get it. Only one slight problem—it was tucked inside the cabin of
Her Grace
where two men now loitered on the deck.

Sometimes you just have to suck it up. Ignoring the algae tainted smell and whatever lurked below, I struggled to move forward in the bracing cold that numbed my limbs. I told myself this would be quick. At least there were no sharks or fish with teeth in this river. I worked to convince myself that it was like a giant swimming pool with ducks. A breaststroke, quiet on top, but frantic underneath, kept hypothermia at bay and propelled me to the ladder next to the engine. Chilled to the core in my wet bra and panties, I held myself still on the ladder and listened to my heart threaten to find another home.

“Bloody hell,” a guy on the boat groaned. “Someone’s hit me with a conker.”

“Could this be them?” the second one spoke.

“They’re bloody idiots if it is. Let’s go get them. I’m going up that slope, you go left then flank them.”

I heard a plonk. Travis missed and his second conker hit the deck and bounced overboard. My numb feet were clumsy, and as they made contact with each metal slat I held my breath, while the water dripping off me spilled back into the river below.

On deck my teeth chattered and in the bleak river haze, I futzed with the keychain on my wrist to open the cabin. Struggling to align the key into the lock, it finally clicked. Edging the door open, I slid inside and closed it behind me before moving toward the Murphy bed and cubbies that stored our clothes. Shivers rippled down my giblets and I wore the scent of pond. Removing my underwear, I tangled with a sweatshirt and a pair of Travis’s boxers that had been left in a pile while listening for noises on the deck above. Floorboards groaned under my feet. Behind a bench cushion, there was a compartment where the painting had stayed safe. All of our things were as we’d left them, and I wondered why the intruders hadn’t broken into the cabin. When feet clomped above, I scurried inside the closet-size latrine, careful to close the folding door.

“Should we call it in?”

I flattened my back against the bowl-size sink, held my breath and listened.

“And say what? Max is still cheesed off about having to let the Turks go. Give him a conker story and he’ll discharge you on the spot, mate. It was probably just some local kids. We probably already missed these two idiots. Our shift is over at three, then it’s up to the next rendezvous point.”

Through the tiny window, I spied the men’s black and white Adidas trainers and faded blue jean pant ankles.

“Did you read the file?”

“Bloody irony. Another American and our reputation’s at stake again.”

Who were these two and were they talking about me?

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