Fearless: Love Part 3

The scenario that had kept him awake the entire night in a state of panic and self-loathing had now become reality.

Knife Wound APPARENTLY, THESE MOSS PEOPLE were not early risers. Loki must have rung the doorbell three times already. It was nearly eight o'clock. On a Friday morning, no less. He didn't understand it. Somebody was home; the doorman had talked to a member of the family. Either they were extraordinarily lazy, or just plain rude. But just as Loki debated whether or not to pick the lock, he heard footsteps. The latch clicked.

"One second," a voice muttered.

The door swung open, revealing a pale and disheveled Paul Moss. He was still dressed in his pajamas.

"Good morning," Loki said with an effervescent grin. "Paul, isn't it?" He extended a hand, which the boy limply shook. "Oliver Moore, Gaia's uncle. We met right here in your apartment."

"Yeah," Paul croaked, clearing his throat. "Hi. I remember you. Is Gaia with you?" He peered over Loki's shoulder, suddenly far more awake. Loki found it impossible to believe that Gaia would have had any kind of remotely s.e.xual encounter in the back of a cab with this scruffy non-ent.i.ty. Sam Moon may have been pitiful, but this carrot-topped fool fell somewhere in the troglodyte category.

"No, I'm afraid she's not," Loki said. "But I've spoken with her on the phone."

"When?" Paul asked. He seemed concerned. "Last night? This morning?"

"Both," Loki replied.

This seemed to be a relief to Paul. He exhaled slightly.

Loki cleared his throat. Paul didn't catch the hint. Perhaps the term "troglodyte" was too much of a credit. Loki was finding it difficult to maintain a pleasant facade.

"Do you think you might invite me in?" he asked finally. He knew this portion of his search was worthless and excessively time-consuming. But he also knew that no stone could be left unturned, even the stone from under which Paul Moss had crawled.

"Oh. Yeah. Of course." Paul slapped his forehead and laughed. "Sorry. I'm just a little out of it. Come on in."

Loki laughed, too, though he failed to see any humor in the situation. He picked up the black suitcase by his side and strode straight for the living room.

"Do you want some coffee?" Paul asked, hesitating in the hallway.

"That would be lovely, thank you so much."

The moment Paul turned toward the kitchen, Loki let the ludicrous smile drop from his face. He scanned the living room for any hints of Gaia. As he'd suspected, he found none. No, she wouldn't come back here. She was too smart to endanger the lives of this family. He scowled and sank into one of the couches.

"So what did Gaia say on the phone?" Paul called. "Because she didn't even call last night and I was kind of worried-I mean, we were kind of worried. That's not really like her, you know?"

"Gaia didn't call you last night or this morning?" Loki asked innocently. "She promised me she'd call you when we spoke."

Paul loped back into the living room with two steaming mugs; Loki could tell by the acrid scent that the coffee was some cheap, instant, supermarket brand. Still, he smiled. The key was to keep his anger in check. This was an easy game to play. Enjoyable, even. Yes, in some ways, it was always fascinating to deal with the general populace-that vast majority of cretins like Paul ("civilians," as some in his trade liked to call them), the type of ignorant folk who could sit there and perceive Loki as merely an eccentric, well-mannered uncle. Not a terrorist who could kill Paul in a hundred different ways before he even managed one sip of that foul brew.

"No," Paul said, handing Loki a mug. "She didn't call me, but she might have called my mom-"

"Ahhh. Where is your mother?" Loki interrupted.

Paul hesitated. There was a flicker of something behind his eyes. It couldn't be suspicion, though. Unless Loki had underestimated him after all.

"Mom!" Paul shouted. "Gaia's uncle's here! Are you up?"

But I haven't.

"Be right out," came the faint reply.

Paul laughed again. "She'll be out in a sec. So, why are you here?"

"Well, Gaia and I are going on a little trip to Europe," Loki said, ignoring the boy's utter lack of manners. He cautiously sniffed the coffee before sipping it, then quickly set it down on the coffee table. "I told her I'd stop by and pick up a few things." He gestured to the black suitcase to ill.u.s.trate his point. "Perhaps I could take a look at her belongings...."

He left the sentence hanging as Mrs. Moss swept into the room, then smiled immediately and stood. At least she had the decency to dress properly before greeting a guest. She was quite an attractive woman, in fact-particularly in that gray flannel pants suit. Very well put together. Except for the dark circles under her eyes. Her skin was a little pallid, as well.

"Oliver," she breathed. She shook his hand quickly and tried to smile in return, but her brow was furrowed. "Please tell me you've talked to Gaia, because I've been worried sick."

"There's no need for panic," Loki a.s.sured her in his most soothing tone. It occurred to him that she might not have slept. Perhaps she was even wearing the same outfit from the day before. "I've spoken with her by phone, but-"

"You have?" Mrs. Moss whispered. She closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. "Excuse me, I'm sorry.It's just... well, thank G.o.d. She's all right, then? You know for a fact that she's all right?"

Her desperation would be amusing, were it not so abrasive-and were it not for the fact that Loki shared it himself. Clearly these people would be of no help. He could feel rage creeping up on him again. He was as much in the dark as they were. He had sunk to their level. It wasn't just infuriating; it was horrifying.

"I know it for a fact," he lied.

I'm so relieved; you have no idea." She spoke quickly, and her voice trembled. "We haven't heard a word. I've been an absolute wreck. I was thinking of calling the police-"

"Oh, no, there's no need for that," Loki gently cut in, patting her on the shoulder. It was time to raise the stakes. "You know... if the truth be told... I feel awkward mentioning this, but I think her date with Sam Moon went better than expected."

Mrs. Moss rubbed her eyes and blinked at him. Then a look of recognition crossed her face. She frowned, blus.h.i.+ng slightly. "Oh. I see. Well... oh, dear, is that why she didn't call? The girl is almost eighteen. She can spend the night at Sam's if she wants, just as long as she calls me."

Paul suddenly hurried from the room, saying nothing.

Loki stifled a snicker. No need to worry, Paul. You won't be having any more compet.i.tion from Sam Moon. "Well, she must have been afraid to call you," he said. "There's your explanation. Now I hope you don't mind, but I'd like to take Gaia on a little European trip."

"Oh, really?" Mrs. Moss asked, her face brightening. "How lovely! When?"

"Well, tonight, actually," he replied. "I apologize for the short notice, but a sudden extra ticket came through for me. Now, Gaia told me to pack up some of her things here and then meet her, but of course I was in such a hurry, I neglected to ask her where we were meeting. So, I've got my driver downstairs; I just thought I'd try a few of her favorite places. Are there any particular places you think I might find her?"

Mrs. Moss's eyes narrowed. For a moment, she stared at him, as if waiting for him to deliver a punch line to some crude joke.

Loki's smile grew strained. "Is there a problem?"

"No, no." Mrs. Moss laughed uncomfortably. "But she should be in school, don't you think?"

"Oh. Yes." Nausea gripped Loki. His legs nearly gave out beneath him. This insipid woman's question had the exact same effect as a knife wound. It was so obvious. Loki had been so consumed with anger and frustration that he'd failed to make the most simple deduction. Of course Gaia was at school. True, he knew that she'd attended sporadically in recent weeks... but it should still have been first on his list. And not realizing that frightened him. It pained him. Self-doubt and uncertainty were two weaknesses he could not afford to suffer. They had never afflicted him before.

"Are you all right?" Mrs. Moss asked.

Loki laughed lightly, his face once again a mask of politeness. "Quite. I'm sorry. Excuse me. If you don't mind, I'll just grab some of her things and be off then."

Mrs. Moss shrugged and waved toward the hall. "Be my guest. Do you think you could have her call us before you leave, though? And if it's possible, could we get an itinerary of where you'll be staying? It would just be nice..."

Her voice faded as Loki stomped into the bedroom, ripped open a closet door and stuffed whatever clothes he could find into the suitcase until nothing else fit. He had no time to listen to Mrs. Moss's inane requests. He had to leave. Anyway, it didn't really matter what he packed. He'd be buying her an entirely new wardrobe in Germany. Waste of time, he chastised himself. He snapped the suitcase shut and hurried back to the foyer.

Mrs. Moss opened the front door for him. "Well, it was nice seeing you," she murmured. "How long will she be gone? I want to be sure and-"

"Not long," Loki interrupted, stepping briskly toward the elevator. "I'll have my a.s.sistant messenger the itinerary over to your house later this morning." He paused and summoned one last smile as he punched the "down" b.u.t.ton. "How does that sound?"

Luckily, the elevator doors opened immediately. He marched inside.

She smiled eagerly back at him. "That sounds-"

"Good-bye, Mrs. Moss."

The elevator doors closed. Loki suddenly realized he was grinding his teeth. Stress was adversely affecting him. No matter. He had one more stop to make, and then his mission would be complete. Stress would be a thing of the past.

Ma.s.sive Under-statement SHE HADN'T SAID A WORD. NOT one single, solitary word. Not even a "hi." Not even a grunt. Through two cups of coffee and two bowls of Froot Loops. Of course, Ed hadn't exactly been talking up a storm himself, either.

What could he possibly say? The way he figured it, there were two potential topics of conversation: 1) the danger she was in, and 2) the kiss. Now, under normal circ.u.mstances (or close to normal, anyway), he might make a joke to lighten the mood a little. Unfortunately, there was nothing remotely funny about either topic. Worse, if he tried to talk about the kiss, that would sound as if he didn't want to talk about the trouble she was in. Conversely, if he talked about the trouble, that would sound as if he didn't want to talk about the kiss.

Best just to shut up, then.

But he couldn't. He had to say something. Anything to get that kiss out in the open. Or even just out of the way-if that was all they needed to do. Her silence seemed to speak for her, though. Clearly the kiss was something she wanted to forget. An unfortunate mishap in the course of a friends.h.i.+p. A misunderstanding. A fluke. And most importantly, it was a distraction from the real matter at hand: Gaia's safety and her plans for the rest of her life on the lam. Surely that what was on her mind. But couldn't she say something ? Or was she going to make Ed do the dirty work?

Yes. Yes, of course she was.

He leaned on the kitchen counter across from her, studying the color details of Froot Loops more than any rational human being should.

"Gaia?" he began. "I-"

"I'm sorry," she interrupted quietly, staring into her bowl and shaking her head. Ed wondered what the world's record might be for the longest conversation (or lack thereof) with no eye contact. He should probably get the Guinness people on the phone.

"What do you have to be sorry for?" he murmured.

Don't say it, he pleaded silently. Please don't say it.

But he didn't have to worry. Because in keeping with her established pattern for the morning, she said nothing. If he wanted any words on the subject, he would have to provide them. Which meant having to eat what little remained of his ego with his breakfast and probably making an utter fool of himself. And was he prepared to do that? Yes. Absolutely.

"Don't you think we should maybe talk about-"

"You got any bread or anything?" Gaia demanded. She shot up from her stool at the counter and ripped open the refrigerator, thus hiding herself behind a solid wall of aluminum.

Ed gulped painfully. So. The message was loud and clear. The subject was banned from discussion. But maybe with good reason. Maybe there was no need to talk about it. He just was letting his own selfish obsession with Gaia cloud the far more urgent issues at hand: her safety and her future. Ergo: her life. Gaia was who mattered now. Not Ed. He had switch gears completely.

"Look, I don't know what happened last night, but-"

Smack! The refrigerator door slammed shut. She didn't seem to have found any bread. But for the first time all morning, she looked in his eyes. And as much as he was dying to leap across the counter and run his hands through her shampooed wet hair, and feel her fingers on the back of his neck again, and feel her mouth pressed against his, he thrust the feeling aside.

"But," he continued, "right now, your safety is the most important thing. I know there's not a lot of time. And we've got to figure out what we're going to do here-I mean, what you're going to do here."

Gaia shrugged, then sat back down. "I have to be out of the city by early this afternoon, at the very latest," she said. Her tone was flat, matter-of-fact-as if she were talking about going to see a concert or a baseball game instead of fleeing for her life. "Or else I'll be dead."

Ed's heart began to pound. He s.h.i.+vered once, involuntarily. It was pretty unbelievable-but with those last five words, that kiss had become very remote and unimportant. "So you're going to need some money," he forced himself to say. "And I guess your dad-"

"My dad can't help me," she whispered. "I told you last night, Ed. Not only has my father been gone for days, but he might be the one who's after me."

"Right, right," Ed quickly agreed, pressing his fists into his eyes to wake himself up. "I'm sorry, it's just... hard to keep track of."Ma.s.sive understatement, he added silently. Gaia's situation was far more twisted than any lame, inexperienced, ignorant teenage boy could possibly comprehend. Then again,she didn't seem to comprehend it, either. There were so many holes in his understanding, so many gaps in her history. He was way out of his depth here. And he was all she had.

Think! he commanded himself.

"Well, without my settlement money, I'm no help," he mumbled. His mind raced down one blind alley after another. "So money will be our first problem to tackle. Then we've got to figure out a place you can go."

"Yeah," Gaia agreed, slumping back down on her stool. "Someplace where I can be totally anonymous-where I can stay as long as I need, and leave within ten minutes."

"Right." Ed swallowed again. Goose b.u.mps rose on his arms. He kept s.h.i.+vering, even though the kitchen was very hot. Or at least, it felt hot. Clearly wherever she was going, she was going alone. Ed played no part in her future. Not that he had expected to... but, still. The cold calculation of her voice chilled him. He shook his head. He was obsessing again. And that wasn't going to accomplish anything.

"All right, look," he said."I think I should go to school. If they're looking for you there, and I'm not there-see what I'm saying? They might make a connection."

Gaia nodded, but said nothing. Her eyes were orbs of blue ice. Completely blank.

"But, Gaia," he warned, "you've got to stay here." He practically shouted the last part of the sentence. His voice cracked. "You've got to promise me you won't leave this house until I can get back here and we can finish making a plan. I'll come back at lunch. I can be back here at twelve, but you've got to stay. Please tell me you'll stay-"

"I'll stay," she breathed.

It was the first bit of warmth she'd given him since the kiss. His stomach contracted. He stared at her. All he wanted was to take her hand, or her shoulder, or maybe even caress her cheek.

Which is why he turned and left for school immediately.

Pesky Emotions TOM CHECKED HIS WATCH. EIGHT- thirty. If he didn't have Gaia by five, then he'd be too late. Loki would certainly have a lock on her by then, if he didn't have one already.

"Open up," he urged out loud. The words were m.u.f.fled by his clenched jaw. He rang the doorbell again. He knew she was in there. The doorman had said, "You have a guest, Mrs. Moss." So why was it taking her so G.o.dd.a.m.n long- Anxiety. It was killing him. So much anxiety, it was shameful. Tom knew that if there were ever a time for his consummate professionalism to kick in, it was now. Every move needed to be quick, pristine-and most importantly, relaxed-because Loki's moves would surely be so. Strange; in this way, Loki was in fact more like Gaia than Tom-less likely to be affected by the pesky emotions that clouded judgment and hampered performance. Tom was feeling all too human right now.

The door swung open.

Mrs. Moss stood before him in a gray flannel pants suit, a cordless phone to her ear. A smile came to her face. Tom opened his mouth, but she held up a finger.

"Hold on one second, Lynn," she said, covering the mouthpiece and lowering the phone. "Did you forget some of her things?" she whispered.

Tom's heart stopped. The look of recognition, the casual greeting, the question: they told him everything he needed to know.

He's already been here.

"I..." Tom stammered.

"Oh, Lynn, did I tell you?" Mrs. Moss chirped excitedly into the phone. "Gaia's uncle is taking her to Europe!" She motioned for Tom to come in. "I know, isn't it?... You know, I don't know...." She lowered the phone again. "Where in Europe, Oliver?" she asked.

Tom clutched at the door frame. The room spun around him. Due to no fault of her own, Mrs. Moss's jovial grin had melted into a sinister leer. He could hear his own voice screaming inside his head, echoing a long list of urgent demands. Call George now. Get out of this house and call George. Leave this place now!

"I'm so sorry," he muttered, sliding his hands into coat pocket as if searching for something. He stepped backward, toward the elevator. "Excuse me. I'll be right back. I seem to have misplaced my..." He didn't even bother to finish his sentence. There was no point. This visit had yielded the information he needed; the worst possible information. The scenario that had kept him awake the entire night in a state of panic and self-loathing had now become reality. Loki had her. He had her already.

Unless Loki was bluffing.

No, that was nothing more than a mirage Tom's mind had concocted to keep him moving forward. A fictionalized morsel of hope for a starving man. But he couldn't allow himself to give up. If anything, he needed to double his efforts. He needed to cut his allotted time to find her in half.

"Are you all right?" Mrs. Moss asked, following him worriedly to the door. "Oliver, are you all right? Is Gaia all right?"