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

"Please, no more. The longer I listen, the more I feel I've fallen through the looking glass." Ethan heaved a sigh and gestured to the car still parked in front of the cathedral. Instead of retracing their steps, Joe had been determined to find another exit. "Finally. Why didn't we just go back the way we'd come?"

"I don't like to backtrack. By the way, you're the ugliest Alice I've ever seen."

"You sure as hell ain't no White Rabbit."

"You won't catch me with a giant watch and yelling I'm late, I'm late for a very important date." Joe frowned a moment. "That was a song too, wasn't it?"

Ethan snorted and got behind the wheel. "You will be late if you're not in Bulgaria by midnight Friday. And yes, that was a song." He stuck out his hand. "Keys."

Joe fished the keys out of his pocket. "Shut up about Bulgaria and I won't remind you about your honeymoon." He slapped the keys into Ethan's palm. "So...how was it?"

"How was what?" Ethan turned the ignition and the engine roared to life.

"If you have to ask, I pity your marriage."

Ethan shifted gears and pulled onto the road. "Like I'd share intimate details with you."

"That's what partners are for. Remember, I gave you a bachelor party to die for."

"Ain't that the truth."

Joe sighed. "I am so underappreciated."

Ethan glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "There is one thing..."

"She likes it k--?"

"Shut up," Ethan warned. "Your attitude's changed."

"Hunh?"

"You were going ballistic, pard. Until you found that," he added, pointing at the pearl.

Joe looked down at it. "Because I know she's okay."

"How?"

"I told you."

"Yeah, yeah. It retains memories." Ethan followed the traffic onto the Pont de Tournelle bridge. "Hey, what's that?"

"What?"

"We passed it."

Joe twisted around in his seat. "What was it?"

"Looked like the stone rail's been shot at. Big chunk missing."

Joe frowned. "Stop."

"Are you crazy?"

Joe barely took notice of the traffic and rolled down his window. "Yeah."

"Joe..."

Joe grabbed the rim of the cardoor and the lip of the roof, then pulled up until he was seated on the door frame. "Slow down, then. Put on your hazard lights."

Ethan groaned. "No references to that show, please. I'm not a stunt driver."

"Ethan."

"Oh shit, fine. Get your butt run over." He slowed down and switched on his hazard lights. Joe put one foot on the frame and heaved until he was standing, his hands flat on the roof. Then he clambered across the rooftop and landed with both feet right in the middle of the bridge. Several drivers going either way, honked furiously at him. Joe waited for a break in traffic from the opposite direction, then darted to the side of the bridge.

Ethan shook his head. "Now what?" he asked, practically shouting.

"Make the block."

Ethan stared at him as if he'd grown another head, then when someone blew the horn, he followed the stream of traffic. Joe ignored the curious, some hostile, stares of the drivers as he walked sideways until he found what Ethan was talking about. There was a jagged hole in the stone, like someone had fired several times. He crouched down carefully and studied the stone. There was a deep indention and he felt a chill. A sniper. He narrowed his eyes. Raven was a sniper. Oh God, surely Raven wasn't here. Then he saw it. It winked from a chink in the stone rail. He pried it out and did a double take. it was a small piece of curved silver with a double knot design that looked very familiar.

"Hey, crazy man, need a lift?"

Joe frowned at Ethan and pocketed the silver piece. "Make another block."

"You are crazy!"

Joe leaned over the stone railing but saw nothing in the murky water. As he straightened up, he caught sight of a yacht moored some distance away. His eyes narrowed. Was this the break he'd prayed for?"

A tinny-sounding horn blew. "Hey! Your taxi's here."

Joe sighed and turned around. Ethan's was, at the moment, the only car on the bridge. Joe walked over and got in the car. "Hot in here."

"I didn't leave the window down. What'd you find?"

Joe dug the silver piece out of his pocket. "This."

Ethan spared a glance for it and shook his head. "A piece of silver," he muttered. "You risked getting squished like a bug for that. Did something bite you in that room? Do you feel feverish?" He reached out to touch Joe's forehead.

Joe slapped his hand away. "It looks familiar. I think it's part of a ring."

"Sure it does. Probably seen thousands of 'em at every two-bit store from here to the Riveria."

"No." Joe frowned. "I think it's Casi's."

Ethan looked at the piece of silver again. "You know something weird?" he said quietly, all the humor gone from his voice. "I think you're right. That's a Celtic knot design."

Joe took the silver piece back. "Back to MSI-Paris."

"Ditto." Ethan drove on toward the steel and glass tower in downtown Paris. Fifteen minutes later, they were back in the lobby, striding toward the nearest elevator. On the sixteenth floor, they stepped out and headed straight for Liam's office. The secretary gestured for them to go on in as she talked on the phone. Liam looked up from his desk as they walked in. Joe put the silver piece on the man's desk. "Does that look familiar?"

Alannah turned from the window and picked up the piece. Her face paled. "It's Casi's toe ring." She looked up at Joe and her eyes widened. "Where on earth did you find the pearl?"

"In the frame of the cot." Joe took it off and handed it to her. "Casi hid it there."

Liam nodded. "She couldn't let Messier get hold of a family heirloom. You found her ring there too?"

Ethan frowned. "Casi wore a toe ring?"

Joe shook his head. "I found the ring on the bridge. Right by two bullet holes." He remembered that day she'd stormed out of the Strawberry Tree in Killarney suddenly. That's where he'd seen the ring.

Liam took a deep breath and pushed himself to his feet. "I'll ask Dupre' to drag the river," he said heavily.

Joe saw the defeat in the man's face and realized he thought his daughter was dead. "She's not dead. She was okay when she hid the pearl, planning her escape."

Ethan had a funny look on his face. "Casi wore a toe ring?"

Alannah held the pearl by it's chain, and let the pearl fall into her free hand. Her expression changed and she stared at Joe. "He's right."

Liam whipped his head around to look at his wife. "That's impossible. It only works for the descendants of the Stewarts."

"Yes. But it also works for you, remember?" countered Alannah. "Same as the amethyst does for me." She turned to Joe, an odd look on her face. "Do you have a piece of jewelry special to your family--or a whole set?"

"My mom has a diamond brooch and my cousins have the rest of the...I guess it could be a set. It's been in my father's family since before the MacKenseys came from Scotland centuries ago."

"Casi wore--" Ethan blinked. "You're Scottish? My God, that explains it."

"Shut up, Ethan."

"Now I know why you're so damned stubborn."

Liam ignored Ethan and focused on Joe. "Have you ever touched any of it?"

"No. Dad gave the brooch to Mom when they got married. Uncle Graham gave the rest to his wife when they married and now my cousins have the other pieces." Joe shrugged. "Boys don't normally touch their mother's jewelry."

Liam took a deep breath and looked at Alannah. "My God, it makes sense now."

Joe looked from Alannah to Liam, puzzled. "What?"

"Why you always seem to connect with Casi," answered Alannah. "I think you two are connected."

Joe frowned. "There was a yacht not far from the bridge. Someone may have seen something."

"What was the name?" asked Liam, suddenly all business.

"The Elizabeth Shadae."

Liam replaced the phone receiver back on it's base. "Belongs to Nicholas Quinn of Hathaway Shipping. They're on the floor below us."

Joe nodded. "Come on, Ethan."

"Wait." Alannah called out, then turned to Liam. "Call DuBois, tell him the situation, so he'll talk to them."

Liam nodded and picked up the phone again. He dialed a number. "Alexander, it's William MacFairlaigne....Yes, thank you...I have two gentlemen who'd like to talk to Quinn--oh...For how long?...I see. Thank you." Liam hung up the phone. "Quinn left for Egypt today."

Joe pivoted on his heel. "Let's go."

Ethan shook his head. "Joe, you can't." He gave Liam an apologetic glance. "Joe has business he has to take care of....in Bulgaria."

"Damn it, Ethan," snapped Joe, frustrated.

Liam nodded again. "I understand. Duty calls, Joe."

"I plan on finding Casi first."

"Joe--"

"Ethan can help, Joe," suggested Alannah. "In fact, call Catherine," she told Ethan, "and both of you can help."

Joe shook his head. "I don't give a tinker's damn about business. I'm finding Casi before I do anything else." Joe stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Ethan heaved a sigh. "Damn."

"Is it that crucial he take care of this business now?"

"I'm afraid so," answered Ethan.

Alannah frowned, then shook her head sadly. "It's going to be the devil's own getting him to go." At her tone, Liam gave her a look. She just arched an eyebrow at him and shook her head.

Ethan sighed again. "I know."

***

21 May 2003

Cairo, Egypt

4:37 pm

She felt strange. Her surroundings took on a sense of unreality. This was all a strange, bizarre dream. A dream she wasn't sure she liked anymore. She wanted to wake up, to find herself. Ariel slowed her steps and looked around. She had been here before. There was a place she'd gone to--a dark, dingy place full of loud music....and blue eyes.

Damn, why did blue eyes haunt her so? Ariel started walking again toward the hotel. Who had she known with blue eyes? A friend--a lover--a husband? No. She shook her head. She didn't feel married, haunting blue eyes be damned. She folded her arms across her chest, hunched her shoulders and watched the sidewalk pass as she walked--and collided almost instantly with a broad muscular back. She stumbled back, embarrassed as the man spun around and two large dark hands grabbed her arms to steady her. "Oh God, I'm sorry," she murmurred, not looking up.

"It's all right." One hand tilted her head up and she saw the tall dark man smiling at her.

"No it isn't. Two hours here and you're the second person I've literally run in to."

"Would it make you feel better if I told you I don't mind?" he asked gently.

"No. I'd figure you were just being polite."

He arched a black eyebrow. "Bad day?"

"Worse than bad."

He took a step back and extended a hand. "You look like you need some consoling. Tom Ellery."

She cautiously shook his hand but felt no tingle. "Ariel Hathaway."

"Now, care for a drink? I know the perfect place."

Ariel took a step back. "I don't know..."

He pulled an ID card from the pocket of his grey shirt. Ariel glanced at it, then did a double take. "Hotel Security?"

"Does that make you feel better?"

"Could be a forgery."

"You are a cautious one. Okay, the hotel bar?"

"Okay." Ariel followed him into Shepheard's. Another black man waved to Ellery. Ariel thought she remembered seeing him earlier behind the check-in desk.

Ellery motioned her to come on. "It's okay. Alan is the concierge. Hey, Alan."

"Tom, Jasmine was looking for you. Something about a blouse."

Ellery snapped his fingers. "She's going to something at Laughlin's tonight. I had Tony take it to the hotel laundry."

Ariel narrowed her eyes. "I thought you were hotel security."

Ellery chuckled. "Jasmine's a friend. She stays here off and on when she's not on digs or at the museum. Jazz is an historian and a talented researcher. Alan Hawkins, this is Ariel Hathaway."

Alan nodded to her. "Miss Hathaway, a pleasure. You came in earlier today?"

"Yes."

"Welcome to Egypt."

"Thank you."

Tom Ellery touched her elbow. "Alan, tell Jazz the laundry will send up the blouse before the shindig."

Alan nodded and Ellery steered Ariel to the hotel bar. It was empty save for the bar tender and another man sitting several stools down, drinking a local beer. "So, Miss Hathaway, what do you drink?"

It slipped out before she even thought about it. "Strawberry daiquiri."

Ellery nodded as they settled on stools. He ordered hers, then ordered a whiskey for himself. He nodded pleasantly to the other man, then turned to Ariel. "So why are you in Egypt, Miss Hathaway?"

"I came with a friend. Please call me Ariel."

"Call me Tom." He handed her her drink. "Business, pleasure?"

"Business. He's an archeolgoist."

"Ahh, the unicorn and the bracelet. Have you seen them?" came a new voice from the other end of the bar.

Ariel glanced in the speaker's direction. It was the man Ellery had nodded to. With his black hair and olive complexion, he appeared to be a native.

"Yes." She took a sip of her dirnk. "The unicorn..." She caught Ellery's questioning look. "....is absolutely beautiful."

"And Chinese, right?" The man got up and walked over to them. He nodded to Tom and smiled at Ariel. "I'm Robert."

In her mind's eye, she saw a jade dragon, snarling, jaws wide. It was contorted into a twisted shape and had blood spatters on it. Hard on the heels of that image was a Chinese girl in a red and white oufit. She shook her head. "It's not a dragon."

"Well, no, but same style, right?" said Tom, taking a sip of whiskey.

"Not at all."

"Now that's intriguing. What about the bracelet?" asked Robert.

"It's turquoise squares with amber spacers in a gold cuff-style bracelet." Amber...something bothered her about amber. Why?

"I guess I'd be wrong if I said it was probably Native American," said Tom.

"Yes, you would."

Robert arched a black eyebrow, looking amused. "Okay, so what do you think?" He walked around them and sat on the stool next to Ariel.

"A lost civilization."

Ellery gave her a queer look. "We're in Egypt, Ariel. There are no lost civilizations here."

"They came from the north."

Robert sighed. "So you believe Plato and all the hoopla he's engendered over the centuries."

Plato--the name she recognized but the other she didn't know. "What?"

Robert studied her for a moment, his amused look gone. "He told a tale of Atlantis. According to certain scholars, Atlantis was in the North Sea not the Atlantic Ocean and that it really existed and that the Atlanteans came here."

Ariel looked from Robert to Tom. "You don't believe that?"

Ellery downed the last of his whiskey. "I don't. Robert?"

Robert shook his dark h ead. "Neither do I."

"Why? asked Ariel, gazing at Robert. There was something familiar about him.

"I'm a realist," said Robert. "I don't believe Atlantis existed, I don't believe in UFOs or anything like that."

Ariel studied him for a moment, then glanced at Ellery. "What do either of you believe?"

Ellery shoved his glass away. "I believe in what I can see, what I touch. In what I know." His phrasing sounded oddly, hauntingly familiar.

Ariel turned her focus on her drink. "I guess I'm not a realist," she said softly.

Ellery frowned at her but he was distracted by a new voice. "Tom! Did Alan talk to you?" A tall dark-haired woman walked into the bar. "I need it within the hour."

"Relax, Jazz. Laundry'll send it up when it's ready."

She heaved a sigh. "I wish you'd discuss things with me before you try to help."

"You had cocktail sauce on it."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot about that little fiasco."

Ellery rolled his eyes. "Now, Jazz, with Katrina dutifully reminding you--"

"You hush." The woman glanced at Robert. "Hey."

Ariel felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up. The woman's dark eyes twinkled. "Hi. Tom boring you? He has that tendency sometimes."

"You hush," said Ellery. "Jasmine Cates, this is Ariel Hathaway."

Jasmine smiled. "Nice to meet you. First time in Egypt?"

"No. I was here a long time ago."

"Well, welcome back." She turned to Tom. "So, Tom, are you escorting me?"

"You've got to be kidding. It's not even technically that kind of shindig."

"And the truth is--?"

Tom Ellery glanced over Jasmine's shoulder. "Ah, Katrina, just the woman I want to see."

Red-haired Katrina Norris looked at him as if he'd risen from the dead. "Do what?"

"Excuse me, ladies, duty calls."

Jasmine gave an unladylike snort and claimed his stool as he bolted from the bar. "Yeah, right." She sighed and shook her head. "The low-down rat doesn't like parties." She grinned at Robert. "So how about you?"

Robert chuckled low in his throat. "I'll be there. Do you want me to escort you?"

Jasmine's grin widened. "You don't have to."

"No problem. Give me a break from my sisters' bickering."

Jasmine looked at Ariel. "Would you like to come?"

Ariel cleared her throat. "Actually I was already invited. I'm with Michael Radcliffe."

"Well, great. Do you need anything?"

Ariel's sour mood melted. "A little help deciding on what to wear."

Jasmine patted her arm. "A little help is my speciality. Come on."

Robert Curtis watched them leave the bar and finished off his beer. So that was the girl his sisters had told him about. She did look familiar. Melia was always the dramatic one and he'd long learned never to take her stories at face value but Felicity was an entirely different type of person, so it was rare when they agreed on something--very rare. He left money for his drink and got up. He was already in the lobby when it hit him. Damn, both his sisters were going too. So much for getting away from them for a little while. Hopefully, soon, they'll be married off to someone who lived far away and he could have peace and quiet to do research without having referee the two of them.

Robert left Shepheard's and started walking. Of course, he knew that was nothing more than wishful thinking.

Let the author know what you think of this story

Home Library Authors Rogue's Gallery Vehicles Chums Message Board Rap Sheet Links Contact

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.