Chapter 12: A Sad Farewell

We were two hours into the trip when my phone buzzed three times.

Can you turn that cell phone on and put it beside yours? I want to clone it.

I don’t know his password. I replied one-handedly.

Won’t be a problem.

I opened the phone to its home screen and placed it beside my own. The screen went dark but then opened right back up to a status bar.

“Who was that?” Bianca asked curiously.

“A hacker friend of mine,” I replied, “same one who helped me find you.”

“Must have been pretty good to figure out my trail.” She replied indignantly.

I smiled, “Oh Sam is good. But your enemies figured it out too.”

She turned back to the window and stared into the night.

My phone buzzed once more:

Cheap burner as I suspected, but I traced an incoming text from another burner located somewhere around Staton Island. That tracks the activities of the Bartolo crime syndicate.

I pulled over and parked on the shoulder. Bianca sat up straight as I began texting. “What is it?”

“Who are you texting?” Bianca asked more sharply.

“My hacker friend,” I grunted, I will try.

Tell her: ‘tuo zio è salvo’

I scratched my head as I tried to pronounce it: “Er ... Sam says, uh two zee salvo.”

“What?” she frowned and reached for my phone, “lemme see tha...” she snatched it away and gasped as she read the message. Then she began furiously tapping away at the screen while I sat there flummoxed.

After a moment it was clear that she wouldn’t be returning it, so I pulled back onto the highway and continued on towards home. Several minutes later the tapping died away and I heard her sigh as she put my phone back in its cubby.

“I’m sorry for being such a bitch to you,” she said softly with sadness in her voice.

I nodded in the dark but remained quiet.

“I need to use the rest room please,” she added when a green sign indicating a rest area flashed by, “can we stop for a moment?”

I nodded and flipped off the cruise control, “Travis probably needs to go too.”

She remained quiet until after we stopped and took care of our needs. This time Travis waited until she had gotten back into the truck before jumping in beside her. I shook my head in resignation as I climbed in and got us back onto the road.

“So, Sam is a woman,” she said finally. Her tone was more than curious.

Fuck me running...

It was still very early morning when we arrived back at my place. Bianca had drifted off to sleep, laying against her new fuzzy pillow, but awakened when I left the blacktop and began the steep winding descent into the canyon. I sensed her anxiously gripping the handrails and her seat as we went. It was understandable, for her first time down the dirt track—in the dark no less.

At the clearing, everything was pitch black, with only my headlights illuminating the area. I backed into the carport by memory and killed the engine.

“Let me go turn the lights on,” I offered as I got out and went around to open her door. Travis hopped down gracefully and went off to check things out. Several motion-sensing flood lights activated as he passed, illuminating the area about the dwelling. I took her bags and held her hand gently as she stepped down. She kept her grip on my hand as we walked the short distance to my porch. I pressed a combo sequence into the front door bolt and opened it to reach inside and flip the switches.

“Welcome to my humble home,” I said as I followed her inside, turning on more lights. I took her things to my room, “I haven’t had the chance to get my stuff out, but you will stay in here.” She looked about curiously as she unbuttoned her coat and removed her hood. Her hair was lighter brown at one time but was now dyed almost blood red. It was cut just above her shoulders and styled in an unkempt pixie look, making her look much younger than her 30 years. Setting her backpack and suitcase on the bed, I took her coat and gloves and went to hang them on the hooks by the front door.

She wandered into the small bathroom and then came back out to the living area just as Travis barked outside. I let him in and he immediately went over to scrutinize his empty dish with a crestfallen expression. I rolled my eyes at him and filled his bowl with kibbles.

“Where will you sleep?” she asked. I indicated the couch opposite the dining table.

“It’s comfy and I am getting quite used to it,” I answered smiling, “I don’t sleep much anyways.”

“So, what now?” she asked quietly, sitting on the dining table chair next to where Travis stuffed his face.

I shrugged, “Whatever you want,” I walked into the kitchenette and opened the fridge to examine its contents, “I’m sure you are dead on your feet. If you want to crash, by all means, go ahead. If you are hungry, I can whip something together before we turn in.” I pointed back toward the bathroom, “And if you want to take a bath or shower, go right ahead. There’re towels in the bathroom.”

“I am famished,” she said as she rose and turned to the back, “I would also love a bath. It’s been so long.”

“Go ahead. I’ll cook us up something,” I paused, “are you a vegetarian or anything?”

She seemed confused by my question but then shook her head before disappearing into the bedroom and closing the door.

Half an hour later she reappeared wearing a pair of tight shorts, a loose button-up shirt, and a towel wrapped around her head. She sniffed appreciatively as I set a French dip, salad, and bowl of Kraft Mac ‘N Cheese before her, with a glass of water. She sat at the table as I placed my own food down.

“Oh, this smells so good!” she said eagerly, “what is it?”

I demonstrated by dipping my stuffed hoagie into the au jus gravy and taking a bite. I didn’t bother with manners; speaking with my mouth full: “Well, that is macaroni and cheese, you know, since you’re Italian and it’s pasta, right?” I struggled to keep a straight face as I chewed and swallowed, “and a light salad with...” I held up a bottle, “Italian dressing.” She stared at me in utter disbelief as I continued. “And this is a French dip because that’s ... almost Italian right?” I dipped it again and took another bite.

She looked truly scandalized as she poked at her cheesy elbows with a fork. “You are making fun of me, right?” she asked, piercing me with a decidedly beautiful frown.

I stopped in mid-chew and swallowed with wide eyes. “Whatcha mean? Hondo told me...”

“This is not Italian!” she barked as she lifted a forkful of the macaroni to her nose, “and this,” she held up the salad dressing, “this is not Italian either!” She set down her fork and grabbed half of her hoagie, dipping it carefully before taking a small bite. Her expression became almost dreamy as she chewed appreciatively. “Mmm. This is heavenly!” she purred taking another bite. “But still not Italian...”

I grabbed the bottle and turned it about, “Of course this is Italian,” I argued, “It says so right here.” She rolled her eyes at me as she devoured half of her sandwich. “And surely, they have macaroni over ‘there’ (I waved my arm over ... there) maybe you just haven’t had it yet.” I got up and grabbed another bottle from the fridge. “Now if you want to really Americanize it up a bit, you can always add a little Ketchup...” I held the bottle suggestively over her bowl.

Her eyes bulged and she pushed it away. “Done you dare!” she mumbled with her mouth full.

I shrugged and returned the ketchup to the fridge. Her sudden burst of musical laughter made me turn back and grin. Travis sighed as his droopy pathetic eyes wandered back and forth between us. Bianca’s bare feet were burrowed into his thick coat as she wiped her eyes with a napkin and dug appreciatively into her salad and pasta. “You are such a fool.” she declared between bites.

With a shrug, I turned back to my own food. “I’ve been called worse.”

My guest was nearly asleep on her feet when I helped her to the bed and tucked her in. Travis made no apologies as he leaped up to join her. I watched her burrow up next to him and wrap her arm around his neck as I killed the lights and returned to my couch. She slept so soundly that she didn’t even rouse when Travis got up to join me for his breakfast.