Page 70 of Ms. Lead

OLIVER

IT’S NOT OVER

February 14th

I thought that surprising Bianca on Valentine's Day would be a romantic way to end our separation early. What I did not count on was being stranded in Boulder, Colorado, during the worst winter storm they’ve had in decades, if not centuries. I begin to think that the entire world is conspiring against me when I also discover that every hotel room in the nearby vicinity is taken.

To top everything off with a neat little cherry, outside my computer bag and carry-on, I haven’t the slightest idea where the rest of my luggage is. Oddly, I don’t care.

My main concern is getting to Las Vegas, and from the sounds of it from other travelers and airline employees, this could be delayed for days, not just hours. I guess I should be glad that I started the journey early, so I have a few buffer days until the 21st. If things in Colorado continue to go straight to hell in a handbasket, I have a little flexibility in my timeline.

I’ve found a reasonably secluded corner near an outlet where I can charge my phone and laptop, and I sit on the floor to close my eyes for a few minutes, enlisting the meditation techniques that I’ve learned recently to destress. It’s much easier to do when there isn’t constant noise, like in a crowded airport.

“Excuse me. Aren’t you Oliver Bellamy?” A female voice pulls me fully awake and alert.

I glance up to find a woman in her mid-20s, with dark hair, dark eyes, sweet smile, and I instantly think of Bianca. While this woman is undoubtedly attractive, she doesn’t hold a candle to her, though she does look vaguely familiar for some reason, but I can’t figure out why. Maybe it’s just the Bianca likeness.

I blink a few times to clear my head. “Yes, I’m Oliver Bellamy. Is there a problem?”

“What? Oh, no. No problem.” She smiles again, and her cheeks redden slightly. She holds up a copy of my latest book and taps on my photo on the back cover. “I was just at your book signing yesterday.” She flips the book open and points to my illegible signature, which worsens daily.

“Ah, I see.” I nod and give a smile. I’m still not used to ever being recognized. Historians aren’t exactly well-known public figures. And it’s awkward as hell.

“Do you mind if I…?” She indicates the ground on the other side of the outlet in the wall.

“No, not at all. By all means.” I unplug my laptop, the most charged of my two devices. “Here. I’ll even share my power with you.” And that sounded just wrong on so many levels.

Jesus Christ.

I quickly turn my attention to my computer, open it, and start it up.

“Oh, thank you.” She nods at me and holds out a hand to shake, so I politely do. “I’m Valerie, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Valerie. I hope you enjoy the book.”

Now, as you can see, I’m busy, so kindly leave me alone.

“Are you stuck here too?” She asks, not reading body language very well. “I’m going from Los Angeles to New Jersey to visit my parents. I saw you were scheduled to sign here and planned a little side trip. And well, that was a bad idea, huh?”

“Indeed. And yes, I’m delayed as well.” I glance around, seeing if there’s any way I can escape this person without being extremely rude.

“You know, I’ve been reading some internet forums and threads about your theory on the location of Matteo Denaro. I think you might be on to something.”

This catches my interest. The man currently most wanted for his organized crime dealings in Vegas and other cities around the world has been a subject of research by me and others for years. He’s thus far evaded authorities but still has a stranglehold on his mafia “family.”

“Do you? I’d be interested in hearing why you think so.”

What the hell. Who knows how long I’m going to be stuck here. I may as well make the most of it and discuss one of the biggest fugitives currently running from the law.

* * *

It turns out that befriending a stranger is beneficial for both of us. Not only do we have interesting conversations, but we can alternate sleep schedules to watch the other’s things, and do the same for walking and relief breaks. So, even though it started awkwardly, it was good that I didn’t completely shut myself off from Valerie when we first met.

Thirty-six hours later, on the afternoon of the 16th, I finally say my goodbyes to Valerie, agree to a quick selfie though I’m sure I look as haggard as I feel, and board a plane to Las Vegas.

The weather is remarkably better. Still chilly, but I can deal with that. There is at least sunshine, and the Vitamin D is most welcome after days couped up in an airport gate lobby.

I don’t try to find a hotel, I don’t stop at a restaurant, and I don’t even attempt to clean myself up very much. I just grab a taxi and go straight to Mischief Motors. I am on a mission and won’t stop until that mission is complete.

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