Chapter 27: Homesick

I’M NOT SURE WHERE I AM. I woke up about seven and we’re still on the train. I know we changed trains someplace in Switzerland last night, so I suppose we’re in France. Angel said she booked us home from Amsterdam. Home. That’s all I care about right now. I just want to go curl up in my very own bed and sleep for about a month.

Christmas gifts

We rolled into Paris about nine to change trains to Amsterdam. I’m glad I’m traveling with Angel. She knows where everything is and where to get the best shopping deals on Christmas morning. She’s been really down. I understand ... well, as much as I can. She killed Ray Hawkins.

I can’t even begin to say how thankful I am. That’s twice in two months I’ve stared down the barrel of a gun. That’s twice too often.

I wanted to get something for Angel but had no idea what. The girl either has or could get anything she wanted. The shops here sell everything from Givenchy to Valhrona. I decided to keep it simple. Then we headed for the Eurostar to Amsterdam.

We got a decent connection a Schiphol Airport. I sent a text to Jordan on the train. Short and sweet. “Jordan. I’m coming home. Hawkins lost at sea. Angel with me. Simon presumed safe. WTF with Gilliam?”

I haven’t heard back, not that I expect much.

The Eurostar is fast but not all that comfortable. The motion affected me worse than the boat in rough water across the Adriatic. Maybe I just had too much adrenalin pumping on the boat to notice. I managed to hold my bread and cheese and complimentary glass of champagne down.

“Merry Christmas, Angel,” I said, handing her the hastily purchased and wrapped gift. Her eyes lit up. I guess that’s the real secret. She can buy almost anything she wants but she likes to be spoiled. Any gift is exciting. She unwrapped the black silk scarf. It has a pattern of interlinked hands embroidered around the edge in scarlet. It’s clear they are all women’s hands.

“This is lovely, Deb,” she said. “I love it.”

“We blondes gotta stick together,” I said. She looked a little strangely at me. Yeah, it’s just a wig. Then she surprised me by handing me a package as well. I unwrapped the present and almost cried. It was a turban wrap like we’d seen many women wearing in Europe. It’s a beautiful dark blue with silver piping. If I wanted to, I could probably wear it out without wearing a wig. We haven’t talked much about it but Angel figured out that when I dressed as a bald man, I was really bald.

“I don’t know about you,” she said, “but a lot of times I don’t want to bother getting my hair all fixed just to go out for coffee. These turbans are so stylish and no one can tell if you’ve washed your hair and spent an hour drying it or if you just shaved it all off.”

“Thank you, Angel,” I said.

“Hey,” she answered, “we blondes gotta stick together.”

I stopped at Duty Free to pick up a gift for Cinnamon. Simple. I don’t want her to get any inappropriate ideas. I don’t think. Text from Jordan said, “Good work. I’ll meet you at the airport.” Hmm. Maybe I should get him a gift, too.

I called Cinnamon just before flight time. It’s a nine-hour time change, so only seven thirty in the morning there.

“Merry Christmas!” I said when she answered.

“Not unless you’re coming home,” she said. “I don’t have anyone to celebrate with.”

“Angel and I are both on our way. Can you stand having us all together?”

“As long as we’re not going to the Condo. Maybe I can get Teri to come over, too. It will be like we started the month,” she said.

“Right. You can all pay me the bets you owe me.”

“We’ll have dinner at your apartment,” she said. “I’ll take care of everything. Do you want me to meet you at the airport? I’ve got this classy Mustang polished and ready to roll.”

“I’ve got a ride,” I said. “You should plan on a couple more for dinner, which means we’ll need to eat with plates on our laps. Is anything open where you can get food? We could just order Chinese.”

“Leave it to me, Sugar,” she said. “Your dog will be here, too. She hasn’t left me alone for the past four days.”

“You have Maizie?” I exclaimed. “How’s my baby doing?”

“Oh, we get along just fine. She’s staked out her own space in the office and I went to Petco and bought her a new bed. She loves it. Mrs. Prior dropped her off Friday and said, ‘Maizie is too concerned about Deb to stay with me. She wants to be here when Deb gets home.’ Mrs. Prior is a hoot.”

“If Maizie starts talking to you, too, I want to know about it,” I laughed. “God, I’m looking forward to being home. I think this case is wrapped up.”

“Um ... Don’t count on that, Sugar. I can’t tell what’s happening but something is up. There was a little article in Saturday’s paper that says Belize authorities detained an American citizen on drug charges. Reportedly from the Seattle area. Federal agents indicate they have no records of the detainee and have dispatched an agent to meet with officials in Belize City. That’s all. It’s one of those short article things on the second page of the International News. It just stuck out when I read it because you were there. It might have something to do with the case.”

“You’re going to make a detective yet,” I said. “I’m betting it was meant for a very few important people to see. I’ve got to board now. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“See you soon, Sugar. Be safe.”

I’m going to like having Cinnamon around.

Surprise at SeaTac

I slept a lot of the flight home. We were treated like royalty in First Class. Or I guess it’s called Business Class. Feels like First Class to me. We had an on-time arrival, which Angel says means we got to SeaTac within an hour of when we were supposed to. Since we were in the front of the plane, we were the first ones to Passport Control.

That’s when everything started to fall apart. The agent looked hard at my passport and asked me some strange questions about where I’d been. I only had one stamp, indicating my arrival in the European Union. Well, officially, that’s the only place I’d been.

He motioned an officer over and I knew I was well and truly busted. A line of coach class passengers behind me was getting fidgety. Next thing I knew, I was being led away from Passport Control by a man in uniform with a gun who had a firm grip on my left arm with one hand and my passport with the other. I could hear the rhythmic clicking of Angel’s heels as she was escorted behind me.