Part 31 (1/2)
”I don't know. A touch of the flu. I slept all morning, and I'm tired again. But you!
We've been worried to death!”
”I went out. Remember, Venice is a really safe city. The cops carry big guns.”
”Venice is a safe city, but still .. .” Cindy's voice trailed off. ”I don't know. I just get scared when I don't know where you are.”
”I'm fine.”
”Great. Are you going to get something to eat with Ragnor?”
”Um ... I guess.”
”Well, have a nice night. And please, don't take off tomorrow without telling us that you're leaving, and where you're going, please?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Cindy that she was well over twenty-one, and that she lived alone in Charleston, and that she knew a smattering of Italian-bad Italian, but enough to get around. But Cindy was earnestly concerned, and Jordan didn't want to hurt or worry her anymore.
”Are you sure you're all right? Maybe you should see a doctor.”
”I will, if I don't start feeling a little bit better ... well, it's not so much better... I don't really feel ill, just exhausted.”
”If you don't perk up, you've got to see a doctor,” Jordan insisted.
Cindy promised she would, then asked Jordan to hang on a minute, Jared was saying something.
She sighed when she came back to the phone. ”He wants you to watch out for Ragnor.
Don't trust him, and don't let him up to your room.”
Jordan didn't tell them that that particular warning was too late.
”I'm going to dinner,” she said simply. That wasn't a lie. How could she argue with her cousin when she wasn't sure what she felt herself?
”Dinner,” Cindy said. Her voice dropped to a whisper. ”Personally, I think he's the best in the world for you!”
”Thanks. Okay, get some sleep.”
She rang off and came back to Ragnor. He was reading his paper again.
”All right. They've gone to bed.”
”So you do want to go to dinner.”
”Might as well. Give me a minute; I want to run up to my room.”
He frowned slightly, as if not certain that she should. He started to fold the paper as if he'd go with her.
”I'll be right down,” she promised, and headed for the stairs before he could stop her.
She hurried to her door and into her room. She quickly checked her E-mail. There was another note from the cop in New Orleans. It was simple, brief, and to the point.
Please call me anytime.
She considered putting through a phone call right then, but she didn't want to take too much time. She'd call him around noon tomorrow. That would be very early in the morning in the States but the cop's message had read any time. And at noon, for some reason, everyone she knew tended to be sleeping.
She washed her face quickly, switched jackets, and opened the door. Ragnor was waiting for her in the hallway. ”I was getting worried.”
She sighed with exasperation. ”Why is everyone worried about me all the time?”
”I've told you-I think you might have stirred up trouble.”
He was quiet as they walked to the restaurant, a little place just a hundred feet away once they had left the hotel and crossed the bridge to their left. There were many people in the restaurant, and many people in the streets.
It felt very safe.
They ordered wine and joked with the waiter, a man who seemed to know Ragnor. Then they ordered their food. When the wine arrived, along with an antipasto, Ragnor drew the newspaper from the pocket of his black suede jacket. He opened it, smoothed it out, and pointed to a picture.
”Do you recognize that person?”
She stared at the face and at the headlines. The words meant nothing to her, except that she thought she recognized the word for death.
”I've never seen the man before. Why?”
”That's an artist's rendition of the man whose head was found in the ca.n.a.l.”
She stared at the picture again. She shook her head slowly. ”No, I've never seen him.
I'm positive I've never seen him.”
”They think he's Slavic.”
”I don't know him. Do you?”
He shook his head. For once, she was certain he was telling the truth. ”No,” he said.
”Why do you think he was killed?”
”I don't know.”
Now, she wasn't so certain he was telling the truth. But he leaned toward her then.
”Don't go running out alone.”
”Now wait a minute. You're telling me-”
”I'm telling you not to go running out alone.”
”You don't ever explain anything.”
”I can't explain.”