Chapter Seven
"I don't know what you want me to say."
Surprisingly, she didn't sound the least apologetic. Duncan cast a side glance at Laura as she sat in a chair next to his table-like desk, facing him and Methos with an unwavering, somewhat defiant gaze. Jonathan's carrier rested on the desk, and her left hand absently rocked it in an effort to keep Jonathan quiet. Her right hand sat palm down on her knee. Defensive, maybe - Duncan got the distinct impression that she deliberately kept her brother close to her, as if he were some sort of shield - but certainly not remorseful. Duncan had the music box in his hand; he placed it on the coffee table, next to the saber. That was another thing. She didn't even bat an eye when it came to bringing the saber out of its hiding place. Nor did she show any unease about possibly having to use it. But why did she think she'd need it? He was already armed, and Methos was right behind him, ready to act, if for no other reason than out of self preservation. Didn't Laura know that? Something didn't add up here.
Duncan sat down on the arm of the sofa, still studying her. Had she known it, Laura could have gained Joe's help without resorting to a forged death threat. All she had to do was drop her father's name. That would have been more than enough. No, something was definitely not right.
He let his eyes fall on Methos, who was pacing angrily not five feet in front of Laura, his arms folded tightly across his chest, gripping the second death threat in one fist. That threat was the real deal. Not even the best actress in the world could have produced such a genuine reaction to it, the way Laura had done. Methos evidently didn't see things that way, however.
Even as that thought crossed Duncan's mind, his friend stopped pacing and glared at Laura. "Why did you do it?" Methos demanded.
"I already told you . . ." she began wearily.
Methos interrupted her. "I know, I know. You were scared, you had no idea what Joe was like, if he would help you. Now, let's try it again. And maybe, just maybe, try the truth. Why did you do it?" Laura opened her mouth to respond, but Methos cut her off again. "No, don't answer that. Instead, tell us something else. How did that music box get here? Is someone really after your brother? And what are you doing with that?" He pointed back toward the saber. "You know what it is, don't you?"
"No," Laura retorted sarcastically, "but I'm sure you'll enlighten me."
Duncan tried to intervene. "Perhaps if we discuss this calmly . . ."
"All right," Methos said through clenched teeth as he started pacing again. His eyes never left Laura. "Let's start with the saber. Where did you get it?"
He wasn't backing down. Neither was Laura. She met his glare head-on, and without realizing it, she began rocking Jonathan more roughly. "I refuse to justify myself for you, Adam. You won't believe me, anyway, so what's the point?"
Duncan believed he was the only one in the room who noticed Jonathan's whimpers growing louder. "Lower your voices!" he hissed at Laura and Methos. "You're upsetting the baby!"
Laura responded by letting her hand drift up and caressing Jonathan's cheek, and Methos managed a ground-out "Fine." Duncan was dumbfounded that the older man actually looked at him when he spoke. Methos turned right back to Laura, though, clearly not through with his interrogation. "Well, Laura?"
"My father gave it to me. He said that I would need it one day, to protect Jonathan."
Methos wasn't buying that for a second. "Is that so?" he sneered. "And have you had to 'protect' him?"
Laura rose from her chair, ready to go after Methos with her bare hands. "Until now, no, but I'm beginning to wonder!"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Methos questioned her sharply.
"I don't know." Laura's voice dripped with contempt. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you've been set on hating me from the moment we met!"
By now, Duncan had it. "Enough!" he shouted as he shot to his feet. Both Methos and Laura were stunned into silence; even Jonathan stilled his cries. Lowering his voice, Duncan said, "Laura, I want you to think very hard. Did your father ever explain to you exactly why you would need a sword?"
Laura pondered the question as she resumed her seat. "Ever since I was little, he'd been telling me that," she told Duncan. "He was always saying that he and Mom wouldn't be around forever, that someday Jonathan would be put in my care. He even put me in fencing lessons when I turned twelve. I got the sword for my sixteenth birthday."
She knew . . . Before that thought completed itself, Duncan remembered Laura's reaction to sensing the Immortal in the hotel lobby, and to picking up Methos outside. What was going on?
"Why do you ask?" she ventured, her voice a tiny sound in the tense stillness. "Is Jonathan in that much danger?"
Duncan saw it again. The wild frenzy in her eyes. The same look she wore when she walked into Joe's - Duncan did not fail to notice that in his astonishment over Jonathan's presence - and during the drive to and from the hotel. She may have lied to get Joe's help, she may have a sword which, she'd been told, she'd have to use someday, but that look scared him. Only a new Immortal was capable of it.
"You both are," he said at last.
She regarded him for a long moment, as if she were contemplating what to say next. If she wanted to ask him why she and Jonathan were being stalked, she had the perfect opening to do so. Just a word from her, and he would be one hundred percent convinced that she had no real clue what she was. He wanted to give her the chance to prove her innocence.
"I guess we'd better go, then." She stayed right where she was. "I don't want anyone . . ." she tossed a sidelong glance at Methos, " . . . getting hurt because of us."
Duncan cursed silently and braced himself for another round of verbal battle.
"Don't worry about us," Methos quipped snidely, "We can take care of ourselves."
"I'm sure you can." The tone of Laura's response matched Methos' perfectly.
Duncan groaned and rolled his eyes. "Don't start that again.."
"Start what?" Methos asked blankly.
Declared Laura, "I didn't start anything."
"You're both behaving like children," Duncan yelled, "and I want you to knock it off!"
"Sorry." This was said in unison. At last the two were together on something.
"Now," Duncan continued, "I'll call Joe in the morning and let him know what happened. In the meantime, let's try to get some sleep."
Only Jonathan succeeded in doing that.
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It was past four in the morning when Joe got home. The first thing he did when he walked in the door, tired as he was, was to haul out his notebook computer, power it up, and run his diagnostics program. He needed to make one more attempt at accessing the Watcher database before heading off to bed. Hopefully, he would have better luck than he did at the tavern.
The Watcher symbol popped up on the screen, along with a message that he had new mail. Joe opened up his e-mail program and clicked on his Inbox. Hmm, a post from Chloe Young. Joe never met her, but Young's name was well circulated throughout the organization. The woman had an amazing talent for finding Immortals when no one else could. A couple of years back, she managed to trace down a Spaniard by the name of Alejandro de los Reyes, an Immortal the Watchers considered long dead but who had been splitting his time between New Orleans and in Belize for the past two centuries, using half a dozen aliases along the way. What did Young want from him? Joe wondered as he opened her message:
"I've been doing background work on a couple of Immortals who were last seen in the company of a former Watcher named Daniel Kessler and his wife Melissa. Since you were an acquaintance of Kessler, I would appreciate greatly anything you can tell me about him. Please call me at the number below."
Joe leaned forward intently and reread the message. Young had to have the name wrong. Dan's wife was named Linda. Ex-wife, actually. They were divorced back in seventy-six. Who was this Melissa, then, and how did Dan meet her?
It was too late to call Young, but Joe decided to do it anyway. He reached for his cell phone and dialed the number she included at the end of her message. He hoped she would forgive him for waking her up at such a god-awful hour, but with Laura and Jonathan on the run from who knows what Immortal, he didn't have much time. Besides, a hunch told him that he and Young were each looking at a third of the puzzle, and if they compared notes, the final third would materialize.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By the time he was done showering and getting dressed for the day, Duncan was no closer to figuring Laura out than he was the night before. To make matters more confusing, she had retreated back into the persona she had portrayed yesterday afternoon, calm on the outside, yet with a distinct glint of apprehension in her eye which she couldn't hide. And she said nothing about what had transpired the night before, either. It was as if last night had never happened.
Once breakfast was cleared away and the dishes washed, Laura set about giving Jonathan a bath, and Methos occupied himself with a deck of cards at the desk. If last night changed anything, Duncan thought, it changed the way those two treated each other. They appeared to be done venting all their hostility and no longer needed a convenient excuse to pretend to ignore each other. As a matter of fact, when it came down to it, they were both so preoccupied with what they were doing that they paid him no attention at all.
Which is why, when Dawson called, Duncan felt fairly comfortable with the decision he was about to make. The Watcher, his tone suggesting a sense of extreme urgency, said he needed to see Duncan at the bar as soon as possible.
"You found something?" Duncan ventured hopefully.
"Yeah," Dawson responded, "but it's news better told in person."
"Okay, I'm on my way." Duncan hung up the phone and went for his coat.
"Where you off to?" Methos asked, looking up from his card game.
"Joe's," Mac replied, as if the single word would answer any and all questions. "I'll be back in a little while."
"That's great," Laura commented as she used her hand to scoop water over Jonathan's shoulders and back. "Just let me finish up here, and Jonathan and I will join you downstairs."
Declared Duncan, "Laura, I don't think that's a good idea."
Laura pulled Jonathan out of the sink and sat him on an oversized towel, ready to dry him off. She stopped what she was doing and fixed eyes narrowed with suspicion on Duncan. "Why not?" she queried evenly.
Duncan pulled his coat from the coat tree in the hall and shrugged it on. "Have you forgotten that someone out there wants you and your brother dead?" he asked in return.
"No, but I'll never find out who it is unless I talk to Joe."
"Don't worry. I'll let you know what he's found out." Then, before Laura had a chance to argue the point any further, he turned to Methos. "Keep an eye on them."
Duncan walked into the elevator. Methos joined him just before he pulled the slatted wooden door closed. "You don't expect to leave me alone with her," he said as the elevator lowered, "do you?"
"Don't do anything to antagonize her or make her want to take off. It's not safe for her out there."
"It's not safe for me in here," countered Methos.
"Methos, do I have to remind you that if she wanted to, she could have taken our heads last night, while we were asleep?"
Methos refused to back down. "Need I remind you that she lied to us?"
Very well, if the man wanted to be stubborn. The elevator stopped, and Duncan raised the door, allowing Methos to step off first. As he followed, he said, "You would have done the same thing in her position." Duncan paused, as a new thought occurred to him. "You know, I'm beginning to think you're taking this way too personally."
He knew that he hit a nerve when Methos scoffed, "Am I?"
"Why are you letting Laura get to you?"
"I don't know what you want me to say."
Surprisingly, she didn't sound the least apologetic. Duncan cast a side glance at Laura as she sat in a chair next to his table-like desk, facing him and Methos with an unwavering, somewhat defiant gaze. Jonathan's carrier rested on the desk, and her left hand absently rocked it in an effort to keep Jonathan quiet. Her right hand sat palm down on her knee. Defensive, maybe - Duncan got the distinct impression that she deliberately kept her brother close to her, as if he were some sort of shield - but certainly not remorseful. Duncan had the music box in his hand; he placed it on the coffee table, next to the saber. That was another thing. She didn't even bat an eye when it came to bringing the saber out of its hiding place. Nor did she show any unease about possibly having to use it. But why did she think she'd need it? He was already armed, and Methos was right behind him, ready to act, if for no other reason than out of self preservation. Didn't Laura know that? Something didn't add up here.
Duncan sat down on the arm of the sofa, still studying her. Had she known it, Laura could have gained Joe's help without resorting to a forged death threat. All she had to do was drop her father's name. That would have been more than enough. No, something was definitely not right.
He let his eyes fall on Methos, who was pacing angrily not five feet in front of Laura, his arms folded tightly across his chest, gripping the second death threat in one fist. That threat was the real deal. Not even the best actress in the world could have produced such a genuine reaction to it, the way Laura had done. Methos evidently didn't see things that way, however.
Even as that thought crossed Duncan's mind, his friend stopped pacing and glared at Laura. "Why did you do it?" Methos demanded.
"I already told you . . ." she began wearily.
Methos interrupted her. "I know, I know. You were scared, you had no idea what Joe was like, if he would help you. Now, let's try it again. And maybe, just maybe, try the truth. Why did you do it?" Laura opened her mouth to respond, but Methos cut her off again. "No, don't answer that. Instead, tell us something else. How did that music box get here? Is someone really after your brother? And what are you doing with that?" He pointed back toward the saber. "You know what it is, don't you?"
"No," Laura retorted sarcastically, "but I'm sure you'll enlighten me."
Duncan tried to intervene. "Perhaps if we discuss this calmly . . ."
"All right," Methos said through clenched teeth as he started pacing again. His eyes never left Laura. "Let's start with the saber. Where did you get it?"
He wasn't backing down. Neither was Laura. She met his glare head-on, and without realizing it, she began rocking Jonathan more roughly. "I refuse to justify myself for you, Adam. You won't believe me, anyway, so what's the point?"
Duncan believed he was the only one in the room who noticed Jonathan's whimpers growing louder. "Lower your voices!" he hissed at Laura and Methos. "You're upsetting the baby!"
Laura responded by letting her hand drift up and caressing Jonathan's cheek, and Methos managed a ground-out "Fine." Duncan was dumbfounded that the older man actually looked at him when he spoke. Methos turned right back to Laura, though, clearly not through with his interrogation. "Well, Laura?"
"My father gave it to me. He said that I would need it one day, to protect Jonathan."
Methos wasn't buying that for a second. "Is that so?" he sneered. "And have you had to 'protect' him?"
Laura rose from her chair, ready to go after Methos with her bare hands. "Until now, no, but I'm beginning to wonder!"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Methos questioned her sharply.
"I don't know." Laura's voice dripped with contempt. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you've been set on hating me from the moment we met!"
By now, Duncan had it. "Enough!" he shouted as he shot to his feet. Both Methos and Laura were stunned into silence; even Jonathan stilled his cries. Lowering his voice, Duncan said, "Laura, I want you to think very hard. Did your father ever explain to you exactly why you would need a sword?"
Laura pondered the question as she resumed her seat. "Ever since I was little, he'd been telling me that," she told Duncan. "He was always saying that he and Mom wouldn't be around forever, that someday Jonathan would be put in my care. He even put me in fencing lessons when I turned twelve. I got the sword for my sixteenth birthday."
She knew . . . Before that thought completed itself, Duncan remembered Laura's reaction to sensing the Immortal in the hotel lobby, and to picking up Methos outside. What was going on?
"Why do you ask?" she ventured, her voice a tiny sound in the tense stillness. "Is Jonathan in that much danger?"
Duncan saw it again. The wild frenzy in her eyes. The same look she wore when she walked into Joe's - Duncan did not fail to notice that in his astonishment over Jonathan's presence - and during the drive to and from the hotel. She may have lied to get Joe's help, she may have a sword which, she'd been told, she'd have to use someday, but that look scared him. Only a new Immortal was capable of it.
"You both are," he said at last.
She regarded him for a long moment, as if she were contemplating what to say next. If she wanted to ask him why she and Jonathan were being stalked, she had the perfect opening to do so. Just a word from her, and he would be one hundred percent convinced that she had no real clue what she was. He wanted to give her the chance to prove her innocence.
"I guess we'd better go, then." She stayed right where she was. "I don't want anyone . . ." she tossed a sidelong glance at Methos, " . . . getting hurt because of us."
Duncan cursed silently and braced himself for another round of verbal battle.
"Don't worry about us," Methos quipped snidely, "We can take care of ourselves."
"I'm sure you can." The tone of Laura's response matched Methos' perfectly.
Duncan groaned and rolled his eyes. "Don't start that again.."
"Start what?" Methos asked blankly.
Declared Laura, "I didn't start anything."
"You're both behaving like children," Duncan yelled, "and I want you to knock it off!"
"Sorry." This was said in unison. At last the two were together on something.
"Now," Duncan continued, "I'll call Joe in the morning and let him know what happened. In the meantime, let's try to get some sleep."
Only Jonathan succeeded in doing that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was past four in the morning when Joe got home. The first thing he did when he walked in the door, tired as he was, was to haul out his notebook computer, power it up, and run his diagnostics program. He needed to make one more attempt at accessing the Watcher database before heading off to bed. Hopefully, he would have better luck than he did at the tavern.
The Watcher symbol popped up on the screen, along with a message that he had new mail. Joe opened up his e-mail program and clicked on his Inbox. Hmm, a post from Chloe Young. Joe never met her, but Young's name was well circulated throughout the organization. The woman had an amazing talent for finding Immortals when no one else could. A couple of years back, she managed to trace down a Spaniard by the name of Alejandro de los Reyes, an Immortal the Watchers considered long dead but who had been splitting his time between New Orleans and in Belize for the past two centuries, using half a dozen aliases along the way. What did Young want from him? Joe wondered as he opened her message:
"I've been doing background work on a couple of Immortals who were last seen in the company of a former Watcher named Daniel Kessler and his wife Melissa. Since you were an acquaintance of Kessler, I would appreciate greatly anything you can tell me about him. Please call me at the number below."
Joe leaned forward intently and reread the message. Young had to have the name wrong. Dan's wife was named Linda. Ex-wife, actually. They were divorced back in seventy-six. Who was this Melissa, then, and how did Dan meet her?
It was too late to call Young, but Joe decided to do it anyway. He reached for his cell phone and dialed the number she included at the end of her message. He hoped she would forgive him for waking her up at such a god-awful hour, but with Laura and Jonathan on the run from who knows what Immortal, he didn't have much time. Besides, a hunch told him that he and Young were each looking at a third of the puzzle, and if they compared notes, the final third would materialize.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By the time he was done showering and getting dressed for the day, Duncan was no closer to figuring Laura out than he was the night before. To make matters more confusing, she had retreated back into the persona she had portrayed yesterday afternoon, calm on the outside, yet with a distinct glint of apprehension in her eye which she couldn't hide. And she said nothing about what had transpired the night before, either. It was as if last night had never happened.
Once breakfast was cleared away and the dishes washed, Laura set about giving Jonathan a bath, and Methos occupied himself with a deck of cards at the desk. If last night changed anything, Duncan thought, it changed the way those two treated each other. They appeared to be done venting all their hostility and no longer needed a convenient excuse to pretend to ignore each other. As a matter of fact, when it came down to it, they were both so preoccupied with what they were doing that they paid him no attention at all.
Which is why, when Dawson called, Duncan felt fairly comfortable with the decision he was about to make. The Watcher, his tone suggesting a sense of extreme urgency, said he needed to see Duncan at the bar as soon as possible.
"You found something?" Duncan ventured hopefully.
"Yeah," Dawson responded, "but it's news better told in person."
"Okay, I'm on my way." Duncan hung up the phone and went for his coat.
"Where you off to?" Methos asked, looking up from his card game.
"Joe's," Mac replied, as if the single word would answer any and all questions. "I'll be back in a little while."
"That's great," Laura commented as she used her hand to scoop water over Jonathan's shoulders and back. "Just let me finish up here, and Jonathan and I will join you downstairs."
Declared Duncan, "Laura, I don't think that's a good idea."
Laura pulled Jonathan out of the sink and sat him on an oversized towel, ready to dry him off. She stopped what she was doing and fixed eyes narrowed with suspicion on Duncan. "Why not?" she queried evenly.
Duncan pulled his coat from the coat tree in the hall and shrugged it on. "Have you forgotten that someone out there wants you and your brother dead?" he asked in return.
"No, but I'll never find out who it is unless I talk to Joe."
"Don't worry. I'll let you know what he's found out." Then, before Laura had a chance to argue the point any further, he turned to Methos. "Keep an eye on them."
Duncan walked into the elevator. Methos joined him just before he pulled the slatted wooden door closed. "You don't expect to leave me alone with her," he said as the elevator lowered, "do you?"
"Don't do anything to antagonize her or make her want to take off. It's not safe for her out there."
"It's not safe for me in here," countered Methos.
"Methos, do I have to remind you that if she wanted to, she could have taken our heads last night, while we were asleep?"
Methos refused to back down. "Need I remind you that she lied to us?"
Very well, if the man wanted to be stubborn. The elevator stopped, and Duncan raised the door, allowing Methos to step off first. As he followed, he said, "You would have done the same thing in her position." Duncan paused, as a new thought occurred to him. "You know, I'm beginning to think you're taking this way too personally."
He knew that he hit a nerve when Methos scoffed, "Am I?"
"Why are you letting Laura get to you?"
