But he’d not managed to catch so much as a glimpse of the hard-to-pin-down professor herself.
He strode to the counter and pasted a charming smile on lips that had gone stiff with the repeated effort. He’d drained the well of his nearly legendary, endless supply of patience. If one more person—just one—told him he’d just missed the ever-elusive Professor Phoebe Mackenzie, he wouldn’t be held responsible for his actions.
A pretty young woman stepped up to the counter to greet him. “Welcome to Perk It Up! What can I get for you?”
“I was hoping you could help me find somebody.”
Her provocative gaze drifted over him, and a suggestive brow arched. “Anyone in particular, or are you taking applications?”
Somehow, he managed not to roll his eyes and groan aloud. Not again!
Sebastian clenched his hands at his sides to stifle the burning sensation that signaled a plasma ball was about to form. He drew a deep breath and informed her, “Someone specific. I’m looking for Professor Mackenzie. Phoebe Mackenzie.”
“Oh, sure,” the woman chirped, bobbing her head hard enough to make her unruly curls dance. “She’s one of our best customers. Comes in every morning for her usual. And again in the afternoon. In fact, you just—”
“Missed her,” he finished. If he gritted his teeth any harder, he’d have a mouthful of coarsely ground powder. Oh dear saints, he didn’t want to ask. “Did she say where she might be headed next?”
“Oh, you bet she did. She’s off to the airport. I saw her ticket when she dug through her bag for change,” the girl added in a conspiratorial whisper. “Was in a rush too. Trying to get all her last minute errands done before taking off, I imagine.”
“What?” The burning sensation in his palms grew to near unbearable levels. Much more and he’d be throwing sparks.
“Well, sure. She’s headed to Mexico, Cam-something-or-other. Big archeological dig, I guess.”
Sebastian ground his teeth. Why in God’s name had the dean not mentioned this crucial little tidbit when Sebastian had spoken to him before?
“Did the professor mention when her plane was leaving?”
“No.” The clerk stared at the clock on the wall, as if it might answer. “Can’t say as she did, though she seemed in an all fired hurry, so I’d guess sooner rather than later. Oh! Oh! I don’t know if it’d help you or not. But I did happen to notice the flight number on her ticket. I have a head for that kind of thing, you know.” The woman rambled, beaming at him as she rearranged the small plastic bins holding silverware. “Numbers just stick with me.”
“That would be exceedingly helpful,” Sebastian prompted. He caught himself visualizing lighting a fire under the annoying clerk’s feet to get the information out of her a little faster, maybe even just burning the whole place down.
No! That’s not the way we operate, not anymore, he reminded himself.
Sternly.
And he forced himself to wait patiently, breathe in, breathe out, while the woman recited the flight information like she was reading it off the ceiling.
The second he had the information he needed, Sebastian spun on his heel and rushed out the door without another word.
By now, he was pretty comfortable with the lay of the land, having gotten directions based on local landmarks at nearly every stop. He’d begun to doubt anyone even knew a street name here. Everything was either “turn left at the big oak at the end of old man Mosby’s lane”, or “hang a left at Beal’s Garage”, or “go on straight a few blocks past the fire station”. He’d not been to the airport just yet, so he had to rely on vehicular transportation rather than simply shimmering. He stomped on the accelerator and prayed he wouldn’t hear the phrase “you just missed her” ever again in his longer-than-your-average lifetime.
After screeching into the airport parking lot fast enough to summon Homeland Security, he erupted from the car. Sebastian didn’t bother to close the door behind him. He sprinted across the cracked pavement and burst into the small terminal.
The building appeared empty but for a lone man standing behind a long counter littered with brochures, pens, magazines and newspapers. Sebastian hurried to the counter and recited the flight information, asking which runway the professor’s flight was departing from.
“Oh, I’m so sorry—”
“Please, please, do not tell me I just missed her!”
The balding little man behind the counter looked at him oddly. “Well, I’m sorry, but you have.” He hitched a thumb over his shoulder toward the window behind him. A small plane was taxiing down the runway. Sebastian looked over just in time to see the front wheels leave the ground. “In fact, there she goes now.”