HDA - Living in Darkness Trilogy - Pt 2 - The Search

Thursday dawned bright and clear, with fluffy cotton candy clouds floating high in the sky. Joseph MacKensey stared out of his hotel room window, sipping the complimentary coffee. He'd slept better than he'd had any right to. And he'd had that dream again. Rescuing Casi from a wrathful fruitseller. The last time he'd had it, had been in Marrekech.

Joe frowned as a memory came to mind. That morning Ethan had so rudely awakened him at Castle MacFairlaigne....No, the alarm had been rude--Ethan had added insult to injury. He winced in memory. Damn, that flagstone floor had been hard--and cold. He blinked, startled. That's when he'd first had the fruitseller dream. Why hadn't he remembered that? "Ethan? Come on already," Joe called, not bothering to turn around.

"Boo!"

Joe jumped, nearly spilling coffee everywhere. "Shit, Ethan--"

Ethan flipped open an imaginary notebook, licked the imaginary tip of a pencil, then wrote slowly. "Worse...habits...in the...morning."

"Are you ready?"

"Good morning to you too."

"If that's a yes, come on."

Ethan grunted and followed him out of the double-occupancy hotel room they'd shared, still pretending to write. "Grouchy...Extreme mood swings."

Joe turned around and stopped in the middle of the hallway. "I'm going to extreme mood swing your ass in about five seconds if you don't make that imaginary notebook disappear," he said in a very mild tone.

Ethan skidded to a halt and looked at his hands, puzzled. "What notebook?"

"That's better." Joe turned back around, slowly, waiting, expecting---

"Possible violent act--"

Joe whipped around. "Hah!"

Ethan jumped back. "Hah what?"

Joe mimed snatching the notebook and ripping it into shreds, then pretended to snap the pencil in two. He dusted off his hands and gave Ethan a smirk.

Ethan bit back a smile. "That was my favorite pencil."

"Do I have to drag you by your ear?"

"If you do, make it the left one. That'll make 'em even."

Joe shook his head. "I give up."

Ethan followed him to the elevator. "About time."

Joe just stared at Ethan as the doors closed. Ethan cleared his throat. "I think I'll take the stairs."

Joe gave him a malicious grin. "Too late now."

"Just my luck. Just don't kill me until after we talk to DuBois."

"No promises."

"Didn't your mom ever teach you to play nice with your toys?"

Joe shook his head. "Maybe but I had that older brother as a role model, remember? He never had a toy for longer than a day before it had to be thrown away due to being utterly destroyed." He grinned. "By the way, good morning."

"You are in a cheerful mood. For you, anyway."

"Ethan?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

Ethan kept quiet as the elevator reached the ground floor, even as they strode through the lobby. Suspecting his partner of doing the notebook and pencil routine again, Joe spun around. Ethan did a little sideways jig to avoid a head-on collision. "Hey, watch it."

"Why are you being so quiet?"

"You told me to shut up." Ethan shrugged as they headed outside to the rental car. "Anyway, I was thinking."

"Now that's scary." Joe got behind the wheel as Ethan got in the passenger seat. He started the car, backed out of his space, then pulled into the early morning traffic heading toward the building where Hathaway Shipping was. "What were you thinking?"

Ethan shot Joe a look. "Did you make arrangements already?"

"I cashed in my ticket, got a coach seat to Cairo. Flight leaves at nine-thirty."

"Thought so." Ethan watched the cars go by.

Joe waited a minute, then asked, "What?"

"Nothing."

"Ethan, what is it?" Joe pulled up to the building and parked.

"You apparently prefer going solo," said Ethan, huffily.

Joe sat there, staring out the windshield. Then he glanced at Ethan. "I didn't think you'd want to come."

"Yeah, yeah, likely story." Ethan gazed out the window for a heartbeat, then looked at Joe. "Just kidding. I'd rather go home to Cathy. I'm starting to miss her." He cocked his head to one side. "Isn't that weird?"

Joe rolled his eyes and got out of the car. "Come on, Ethan."

Ethan grunted and got out of the passenger side. They walked through the lobby and caught an empty elevator. A few minutes later, they were in the reception area of Hathaway Shipping. Ethan peered at several large photographs on the wall. "Hunh."

"What?"

"He's not into shipping," said Ethan, making the shape of a box with his hands. "He's into shipping--I mean ships--I mean boats--never mind."

"Monsieur DuBois will see you now." The secretary, a petite blond showed them into the inner office.

A man stood there, impeccably clothed in a three-piece suit, his silver hair a contrast to his dark tan. "I am Alexander DuBois. How may I help you?"

Joe stepped forward and shook the man's hand. "Joe MacKensey. Liam MacFairlaigne called you yesterday--"

"As I told him, Monsieur Quinn left for Egypt yesterday."

Ethan nodded and introduced himself. "We thought maybe you could help us."

DuBois looked puzzled. "I will assist in any way I possibly can."

"Did Quinn mention anything about something happening on the bridge near his yacht? Involving a young woman," said Joe. "Maybe he pulled her from the river--or she asked him for help."

DuBois looked at him, stunned, then slowly he sank into his chair. "Mon Dieu."

"Now that's what I call a reaction," whispered Ethan.

Joe glared at his partner, then looked at DuBois, feeling uneasy. "Monsieur DuBois?"

The man blinked, then nodded. "Oui, monsieurs. He came to me and told me of something happening. I told him of the kidnapping but he said the girl had amnesia. The article in the newspaper did not provide a description. I suggested he at least talk to Monsieur MacFairlaigne but Quinn did not wish to raise the man's hopes.." DuBois' voice trailed off as he realized neither man was listening.

Joe was stunned. "Amnesia. My God, Ethan, she has no memory. Now it makes sense."

Ethan slowly shook his head. "What do we do now?"

"We tell Liam," said Joe, his voice still full of shock.

DuBois got to his feet. "I shall tell him."

Joe stared blankly at DuBois, then cleared his throat and nodded. "We'll all go."

The three men left DuBois' office and headed for the elevator. Joe shook his head, unable to really grasp it all. "Now it makes sense."

Ethan frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Messier said she escaped. Casi's safest place would have been her parents' chateau--only if she remembered."

Ethan went slack-jawed. "Of course. But what was she doing on the bridge?"

Joe narrowed his eyes. "Maybe that's how she got amnesia."

Ethan stared at him. "Oh God, you think Messier tried to kill her?"

"He could have found her in plenty of time. She'd be disoriented, probably half-blinded by the sun."

"The little shit," growled Ethan. "I ought to---"

"Oh no." Joe curled his hands into fists so tight his knuckles were bloodless. "I get first crack."

"We'll take turns," muttered Ethan.

The elevator deposited them on the sixteenth floor and Joe led the way to Liam's office. Both Liam and Alannah looked up as the three men walked in. Alexander stepped forward. "Forgive me, mon ami, I have made a grave mistake."

Liam frowned. "What are you talking about, Alexander?"

DuBois told him exactly what he'd told Joe and Ethan. Alannah's eyes widened and she looked at Joe. Seeing her look at him, Joe blanched. Even if it hadn't been her intention, he knew it was his fault. Damn it, he'd screwed it up worse. His eyes rested on the pearl around Alannah's neck. "Send her the pearl."

"She may not want to remember," said Alannah in a quiet neutral tone.

"I know," said Joe, his voice full of regret.

"Shit," Ethan said, loudly enough for everyone to look at him. "Has it hit anybody yet? Joe would sacrifice everything to save Casi--his career--his life...and what does everybody do?"

"Ethan, shut up," said Joe, tiredly.

"No, partner I won't. Know where he went last night?"

"Ethan, don't. That's personal."

Ethan ignored him. "He went to church--to pray."

Alannah's eyes filled with tears as she looked at Joe. "Ethan's right. I know you love her, Joe, but--"

"Donovan's attitude is contagious," said Liam. "He gets that protective streak from her anyway."

"Liam!" Alannah shot her husband a glare.

Liam smiled for the first time in days. "Come here, Ally." He stood up as she walked to him and he pulled her close. "Our girl's okay." He looked at Joe. "Thank you."

"I didn't--"

"Yes. You did. Believe it or not, she does love you. She called you idiot several times but with fond affection."

Ethan gave Joe a back-handed slap in the shoulder. "See? Told you."

"You shut up."

Alannah took the pearl off and handed it to Joe. "Take it to her."

"I--" Joe glanced at Ethan, then down at the pearl in his hands. Now that he was close, he wondered if she even would want to see him. She must be so angry. "I have to go to Bulgaria."

Ethan gave his partner a puzzled look, then sighed. "You have twenty-four hours. Jack won't hear anything from me."

Joe looked at his partner, started to say no, then remembered the monk from the night before. He pocketed the pearl and cleared his throat. "Right." He managed a grin to Ethan. "If I were you, I'd go home--make up for time lost.," he added, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Hot damn, you're right. Do you know she likes--" Ethan clamped his mouth shut, sketched a wave to Alannah and Liam and promptly bolted, looking quite embarrassed.

Joe shook his head and sighed. He turned to the older couple. "I'd better go."

Liam grinned and gazed at the open door. "Tell your partner we were newlyweds once too."

Alannah blushed. "William Donovan MacFairlaigne, shut up."

Joe laughed and left with DuBois on his heels. "Monsieur MacKensey," said DuBois. When Joe turned around, he cleared his throat. "Monsieur Quinn stays at Shepheard's when he is in Cairo."

Joe nodded. "Merci beaucoup."

"I am terribly sorry. I should have insisted."

Joe shook his head. "Maybe it was all for the best," he said with a sigh.

***

22 May 2003

Cairo, Egypt

8:11 am

Sunlight flooded the room with light. But Ariel didn't move from the bed. She'd cried herself back to sleep last night and now felt even more tired. Who was this man she'd seen? And why did she love him still? Ariel sat up and shifted the pillows behind her back. Because he needed it, she realized, not sure how she knew.

A tear leaked slowly down her cheek, the urge to take away the haunted look on his face so strong, even though she couldn't even remember his name. The haunted blue eyes had a face. Maybe if she saw him face to face, she'd remember.

Ariel closed her eyes. No. She didn't want to remember. She never wanted to remember why he'd walked away from her, why he'd walked out of her life if they had really loved each other.

A tap on the door roused her and a familiar voice called, "Ariel?"

Michael. Ariel got out of bed and walked toward the door. "Yes?"

"Breakfast. Are you hungry?" he asked through the door.

She opened the door without thinking. "Hey."

Michael gave her a critical once-over. "You okay?" he asked, sounding worried.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Give me five minutes to get dressed and--"

"Actually, breakfast is here." He pushed a cart into the room. "I ordered room service."

"Smells good."

Michael pushed the cart over to the bed. "Breakfast in bed, my dear."

"How sweet." She gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

"At least someone appreciates me," he said with a wink as they sat on the bed and ate from the cart. "Could you sing my praises to Alethea?"

Ariel felt better with muffins and milk in her stomach. "You don't care what Alethea thinks about you."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "I'm beginning to think you know me too well."

"It's what everyone else says that bothers you."

Michael grunted. "You're too observant for your own good."

"It bothered me, too."

Michael looked over at her, noted she hadn't touched the coffee. He'd noticed that all the other times too. "Why?"

"What if we're all wrong, Michael? History is ninety-nine percent guesswork. We don't know why people built the Ohio serpent. We know it's there. We assume it's a burial ground. We don't know why Stonehenge was built. Was it an ancient lunar observatory or was it a temple? And the Nazca lines. We don't know--we can only guess."

Michael frowned. "But those guesses are backed with discovered artifacts, discovered writings. There are grave goods in the Ohio serpent and other earthworks. The Heel Stone at Stonehenge is proof that there was some sort of calender used there."

"Are they? Or are we taking either too much or not enough for granted? Take Palenque'."

"No thanks. He's nothing but bones, can't take him anywhere."

"Michael."

"Okay. Palenque--you were saying?"

"Two theories. One, he's falling into the underworld. Two, he's in a rocket, shooting for the stars."

Michael grunted. "Can't possibly figure out which one's von Daniken's, now can we," he muttered sarcastically.

Ariel bit back a smile. "The point is, every artifact is interpretted differently by different people. Take you and Thane."

Michael looked around the room. "Where?"

Ariel rolled her eyes. "You don't believe Atlantis ever existed. He believes Atlantis was off the coast of Denmark. And unlike a tug of war, it doesn't matter how many people believe your way or his way, it's still just theories."

Michael grinned. "And that's why I wanted you to come along, Ariel. You have no assumptions, no preset theories."

"And that's a good thing?"

Michael's grin widened. "Absolutely."

"When does Reeves want to leave for Karnak?"

"This evening. We have time to sightsee though."

"Great. Let me get dressed."

"Do you have to?"

"Michael." Ariel suddenly realized she was clad only in a silk nightshirt that barely reached her thighs.

"Okay, okay. Ruin my view."

"You hush." She darted into the bathroom just as a shiver swept over her. A hazy half-memory of a gaping towel, a shower, breakfast...Her hand came up automatically to her neck. The pearl--did the man in her dream have it?

She got dressed and left the bathroom. After stacking the empty dishes on the cart and leaving it outside the door, she and Michael took an elevator to the lobby. Michael insisted on buying her a straw hat before they went outside. Ariel sighed. "Okay, okay, I'll wear it if you buy it," she said as they went into the hotel's gift shop. "Why is Sheldon waiting until this evening?"

Michael shrugged. "There's nothing like a moonlight cruise upriver." He paid for the hait and handed it to her. "Come on."

"Cruise?"

"It's a barge, called the Nefretiri. It has all the latest in scientific gadgets. We'll cruise down to Karnak, using the time to study the objects."

Ariel put the hat on her head and they left the hotel. She caught sight of the Great Pyramid and nudged Michael. "Let's go there first."

Michael nodded and hailed a taxi. Within minutes, they were joining the crowds of tourists at the Great Pyramid, one of the Seven Ancient Wonders of the World and the only one still intact. Ariel pushed the broad-brimmed hat back on her head and gazed up at the Great Pyramid, seeing the huge stones, worn down by eons of time. "I know I've been in there before, in the King's Chamber."

Michael gestured around them. "You probably went on a tour. Quinn said you might have seen a documentary--"

High-powered flashlights, echo-y chamber. "No, it was at night. We snuck in. Someone was...using the souvenir shop to smuggle antiquities out of the country."

Michael stared at her for a long moment. "You're remembering."

"Bits and pieces." She turned to look at him and suddenly stepped clear of the line of tourists ready to go inside. "I don't want to go in there. It's too dark---too crowded." She spun around and hurried away from the huge structure.

Michael followed her, grabbed her elbow to stop her. He remembered the puffy eyes, the pink nose when he'd brought breakfast. He touched her cheek. "And it made you cry," he said, sadly.

Ariel looked away, felt the trembling begin as if she were back in that metal building, watching him walk away. "He walked away from me," she whispered.

Michael went very still and felt his stomach heave. "He?" he asked, as casually as he could.

"I don't know who he is. I just know--"

"You love him," he said in a careful tone.

Ariel's head whipped around and he realized he'd not succeeded in sounding casual at all. Her eyes filled with tears and she laid her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he said. "I knew it going in." he lied.

She searched his face for a long moment and a single tear traced it's way down her cheek. She turned her head and kissed the palm of his hand. "So why aren't you married, Michael Radcliffe?" Her eyes locked with his as she looked back at him. "You'd make a girl very happy."

Michael touched her hair with his free hand. "Would I, Ariel? I'm married to my work. A woman doesn't want to be in second place."

"Why not an archeologist? There are women archeologists.." Her voice died away as a blurry face flashed in her mind--hazel eyes, shoulder-length auburn hair.

"Ariel, what is it?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. Come on. Let's check out the souvenir shop."

Michael looked at her a long moment. She was wearing a twill cargo skirt that brushed her calves, clunky gladiator sandals and a simple white blouse. She flashed him a smile and he found himself smiling back, even though he felt his heart break. As beautiful as she was, he should have known she would be taken. "Okay."

Once inside the cool dimness of the souvenir shop, Ariel took off the hat. A tall middle-aged woman, clad in a tan jumpsuit, her black hair in a bun looked at her and did a double take. "You. Out of here, now."

Ariel stared at the woman, startled. "Excuse me?"

The woman shook her head. "I told you never to come back in here after what you did."

Michael stepped forward, touched Ariel's shoulder, then glanced at the woman. He looked at Ariel. "Ariel, is something wrong?"

The woman narrowed her eyes,, looked Ariel up and down. "Then you are not her." She studied Ariel for another long moment, then shook her head again. "Forgive me, mademoiselle. I was mistaken. The resemblance is uncanny."

"Resemblance to whom?" asked Michael, realizing with some dread that with Ariel remembering bits and pieces, this could be it.

The woman gave an unfeminine grunt. "Two teenaged girls, sisters." She waved a hand as if swatting a fly. "My brother is in jail because of them."

"Why?" asked Ariel, puzzled.

"The girls uncovered a smuggling ring and pinned it on my brother, claiming he'd masterminded the whole crime."

Michael shot Ariel a sideways glance but she showed no reaction...yet. "Did he?"

"No." The woman snapped, anger deep in her voice. Then she looked away. "I am not saying that Jacques--" She pronouced it 'Jock'--wasn't guilty by association, but he wasn't the mastermind." She cleared her throat, looking embarrassed. "I am Mignon Toussaint."

"Ariel Hathaway." Ariel said and shook the woman's hand, still showing no sign of recognition. "It must've been horrible."

"It was. And I blame myself. I should have seen the changes."

Michael arched an eyebrow, still watching Ariel. "Changes?"

"Spending habits and such." Mignon shook her head again. "Forgive me for burdening you unnecessarily. May I help you with anything?"

Michael shrugged. "We were just--"

"Thank you." Ariel's voice sounded cold suddenly. "You already have." She took Michael's arm and steered him back outside.

Michael glanced at the shop, then down at her. "Ariel--"

"My God, it was her."

Michael frowned. "Ariel?"

"It was her."

"What do you mean?" asked Michael, trying to quell his uneasiness. If she was remembering, he should be happy for her.

"Jacques wasn't spending anything." Ariel's eyes were unfocused, staring at nothing. "It bothered me, her clothes at the time--straight from Paris, the latest fashions. She said Jacques had gotten them for her in Paris."

"So?"

"Jacques aid he hadn't been home to Paris in five years. Her clothes were the current fashions. And she'd been to Paris two months before. Damn, why didn't I see it?"

"Ariel?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay?"

Ariel blinked and turned to look at him. "Of course, Michael, I'm fine. Why?"

"You went weird for a moment, saying Mignon Toussaint was--"

"I know what I said, MIchael. I don't know how I know but--"

"I think you do," said Michael quietly, taking the hat from her hands and placing it on her head.

Ariel felt panicky as if she were losing her identity all over again. She shook her head. "I don't know, Michael, I don't."

Michael didn't want to argue with her. "Why don't we go to Mena House for a cool drink--"

She hung back, clenching her hands into fists. "I don't know, Michael."

Something in her tone made Michael look over his shoulder at her. She stood rigidly, hands clenched, face pale and eyes wide. "Why does it scare you so?" he asked.

Ariel looked away. "I must be horrible for him to walk away."

"Why do you say that? You're beautiful, smart, sexy--did I say beautiful?" He took a deep breath, touched her shoulders. "You're everything a guy could want in a woman."

She didn't look convinced. "Then why did he walk away?"

"Maybe he was the horrible one. Maybe he had unresolved issues--" Michael heaved a sigh, not wanting to have this conversation. "His leaving wasn't your fault."

"What if it was? Don't you see, Michael? I don't remember the real me. What if I'm an evil person or a criminal or--"

"Damn it, Ariel." Michael grabbed her arms, pulled her to him and kissed her. This time it wasn't gentle, slightly teasing but hard and deep, full of frustration and just a hint of lust.

It never entered Ariel's head to break away. Instead, she kissed him back until they were both breathless.

Michael raised his head to see her cheeks flushed and her lips full and parted, as if ready for more. He noticed absently he'd knocked off her hat. "Damn it, Ariel, amnesia only affects memory and if I had to wager, it's only your recent memories. It doesn't affect your soul or your heart. You're a good person."

"Then why--?"

He silenced her with a kiss, then splayed his hands on either side of her head so that he could meet her eyes. "Obviously, he has a screw loose. Or he's the love-em-and-leave-em type."

She desperately wanted to believe him but an inner voice said no, it wasn't that. The man from her dream was scared. Ariel reached up and touched Michael's cheek. "You are absolutely the sweetest man I've ever met."

Michael managed a grin. "At last, someone who appreciates me." He let go of her long enough to retrieve her hat. "Come on, let's go."

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.