A Knight Of The Word

She exhaled wearily, peering out at the descending, dark. This was going to be a much harder task than the one the Lady had given her.

The taxi rolled onto the off-ramp at Seneca and down to Pioneer Square. The district’s turn-of-the-century lamps were already lit, the shadows of the city’s tall buildings stretching dark fingers to gather in dwindling slivers of daylight. The taxi pulled up at the curb beside the burned-out hulk of Fresh Start, and she paid the driver and jumped out, bag in hand. The taxi —drove away, and she stood there, gathering her thoughts. She realized how cold it had gotten, a brisk wind whipping out of the northwest down Second Avenue’s broad corridor, and she slipped hurriedly into her new jacket.

She turned and looked across the intersection at Waterfall Park and the apartment building where John Ross lived with Stefanie Winslow. The wind buffeted her gangly form as she stood there and tried to decide what she should do.

Finally, she picked up her bag and turned the corner to walk up Main Street to Pass/Go. She entered the reception area and glanced around. Except for the lady working the intake desk, the room was empty.

She moved over to the desk, taking several deep breaths to slow the pounding of her heart, masking her trepidation and urgency with a smile. “Is John Ross here?” she asked.

The woman at the desk shook her head without looking up. She seemed anxious to stick with her paperwork. “He didn’t come in today. Can I help you?”

“My name is Nest Freemark. I’m a friend. I need to speak with him right away. It’s rather urgent. Can you give him a call for me at his apartment? Or would you let me have his number?”

The woman smiled in a way that let Nest know right off the bat she wasn’t about to do either. “I’m sorry, but our policy is —”

“Well, look who’s back!” Della Jenkins strolled into the room, smiling like this was the best thing that had happened all day. “I thought you was flying home, Nest Freemark. What re you doing, back in my kitchen?”

She saw Nest’s face, and the smile faded away. “Good gracious, look at you! If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d been in a cat fight with Stef Winslow. She looks just the same!”

Nest flinched as if she had been struck. “I’m sorry to barge in like this, but something’s came up and I really need to find John.”

“Lord, if this isn’t a day for finding John! Everyone wants to find John! You’d think he’d won the lottery or something. He hasn’t, has he? “Cause if he has, I want to be sure I get my share. Marilyn, let me use the phone there, sweetie.”

Della moved the woman at the intake desk out of the picture with an easy exercise of authority that didn’t leave much room for doubt as to who was boss. She picked up the receiver, punched in a number, and waited, Listening. After a long time, she set the receiver

“John’s been home all day, far as I know. He’s stayed clear of here, and I don’t expect him in. Stefanie’s gone, too. Left here a short time ago. There’s no answer at the apartment, so maybe they’re out together somewhere.”

Nest nodded, her mind racing over the possibilities. Had they left town? Had John Ross done as he promised? She didn’t think so. She didn’t think there was a prayer of that happening. He would still be in the city...

“Is Mr. Lawrence here?” she asked quickly.

“Oh, no, he’s gone, too,” Della answered, surrendering her seat to Marilyn once more. She came around the desk and put her finger to the side of her cheek. “You know, Nest-.oh, I do love that name! Nest! Anyway, Nest, John might be down at the art museum, helping set up for tonight. That’s where Simon’s gone, so maybe John’s gone there, too.”

Nest was already starting for the door, shouldering her bag. “Thanks, Della. Maybe you’re right.”

“You want me to call and ask?”

“No, that’s okay, I’ll just go down. If John shows up here or calls in, tell him fm looking for him and it’s really important.”

“Okay.” Della made a face. “Here, where are you going with that bag? You don’t want to be carrying that all over the place. You leave it with me, I’ll keep it safe.”

Nest came back and handed her bag to the bag woman. “Thanks again. I’ll see you.”

She raced across the lobby, thinking, I’m going to be too late, I’m not going to be in time!

“Slow down, for goodness sake, this ain’t the fifty-yard dash!” Della called after her, but she was already out the door.