Natalie's Legacy [sequel to Natalie's Diary]

[11] Three of Swords

Three of Swords

Rhys

"You're going to choke," Bia chided, a far more dainty eater despite the way cafe employees kept looking over to see if we were anywhere near clearing out to make room for the next round of hungry tourists.

"I can't even fathom the irony of dying by ham sandwich," I replied. Survived hanging upside down and a medically-induced coma just to choke to death on bread crust. What a life.

The cafe was too open, too exposed and I didn't want to be there any longer than we had to. As quickly as I downed my sandwich, Jane picked at hers.

"Stop playing with your food."

Bia really was more mother than future victim at the moment. Her tone was sharp, but her eyes were softer. She worried more about Jane's half-hearted lunch than she did about what peril lay ahead. I couldn't even say that if she knew the extent of it that she would act any differently.

Jane looked up to glare at Bia, but Bia was already looking beyond her out the window. The moment was brief before she went back to her lunch, finishing off her lemonade. Her subtlety was easy, seeing but not acknowledging. In her head, the gears must have been turning the same way she calculated where to stop that still kept us on route.

"You see that?" I asked, leaning further over the table.

Jane paused, looking between us for an answer. Her back to the window, she couldn't watch out the window for what changed and what stayed the same.

"What is it?" Jane asked, pointedly not looking over her shoulder.

"A man in sunglasses has been watching us for at least ten minutes." Bia shifted naturally, so perfect a mimic of her ordinary behavior, I hadn't even noticed her noticing.

He had clocked us earlier, though. At least since the library, that man had been keeping a measured distance. His neutral clothes kept him indistinct, dark jeans, gray jacket, but his stillness made him suspicious. 

That, and the fact that stalking was already a tactic in play. 

My fingers drummed against the table top.

"How hard could it be to lose him in the crowd?" Jane fed herself the tiniest bite of her sandwich.

"You could lose anybody in a crowd," I said grimly, "me, not so much."

Jane could hide behind a fire hydrant and get away unseen. She could blend in incredibly well when she wanted to, didn't attract attention until it was necessary. Her humbleness embodied her. It served our purpose, but I did not.

I never had a gift for invisibility.

Men in sunglasses would look for the same things I did: the pop of Jane's yellow hoodie under her military green jacket and the flash of Bia's blue top under denim.

My red flannel shirt definitely seemed to play more to an enemy advantage than to mine.

Jane tossed her tip money on the table next to her half-eaten sandwich and that was all the permission I needed to get up, get out of this showcase window advertising us to a spy.

Watch and wait, Natalie said. It worked better for watching birds than watching stalkers.

Bia fell back from her position as impromptu tour guide. Her expression cracked into uncharacteristic uncertainty before she took a deep breath and plastered back on a smile.

"Let's go lose him, shall we?" she said.

The best course of action was to curve back onto Essex, into the crowds that couldn't be so subtly cut through.