“Call your father,” Celeste repeated.
Jess’s phone was in her hand, her father’s number on it. She’d been distracted in the middle of calling him. She pushed the call button and held it to her ear. Busy signal. She tried again. Busy signal. She looked around at the people around her, all of them on their phones.
“The cell networks are jammed,” Jess whispered in horror.
People mobbed the airline desks. There was no way they’d get seats on the 3 p.m. flight. She doubted they’d be getting on any flight.
Not anymore.
12
ROME, ITALY
“WHAT DO YOU mean, he’s not registered here?” Jess demanded.
The little man behind the huge marble reception desk checked his computer again. His pencil-thin mustache twitched, and he smoothed his slick hair back with one hand before looking up. “We have no record of a Ben Rollins staying at the hotel.”
Jess clenched her fists. “But I met him here, four days ago. Check again. Doctor Ben-Ja-Min”—she enunciated each syllable of his full name—“Rollins.” She pointed at workers disassembling a booth on the other side of the lobby, an International Astronomical Union poster on the wall behind it. “He was here for the meeting.”
Stray bits of papers and packaging littered the deep carpeting of the Grand Hotel’s lobby. Men carrying crates flowed in a steady stream out a service entrance to one side, sky-blue frescoes of angels hanging above.
“I’m very sorry, signora, but we have no record of a Dr. Benjamin Rollins staying with us.”
Jess leaned over the desk to try and look at his computer screen. “Do you even know how to use that goddamn—”
“Sorry, it’s been a long day,” Celeste apologized. She hauled Jess back.
It had taken three hours to get from the airport into Rome, normally less than an hour’s trip. Chaos erupted after the news reports, and they waited in the taxi line for two hours. They tried calling and texting Ben on the way, leaving messages for him. Sometimes a call managed to go through on the mobile network, but so far, no return messages. Not since Jess had talked to her father in the airport.
Jess’s phone buzzed. Her heart skipped a beat, hoping it was her father, but it wasn’t. Still, she smiled. Giovanni texted her: You still here? Saw the story on the news. She texted back: Yes, in Rome now.
“Do you have a room available for the evening?” Celeste asked.
The mustache quivered again as the little man winced. “Very sorry, but we are fully booked.”
“Is there somewhere nearby you could recommend”—Celeste inspected the brass nameplate pinned to his suit—“Vittorio?”
Vittorio’s lips mashed together as if he tasted something sour. He pulled a sheet of paper out from behind the counter. “These hotels are close, but I’m afraid they are all”—he paused to add weight to the word—“full, penso.” He nodded in the direction of the doors. People filled the streets outside. “Many people are coming.”
“My friend Angela lives a few blocks away,” Jess said to her mother. At least she had made one friend in her months here. Grunting, she exhaled to let her frustration out. “Did Dad go to the airport?” she muttered under her breath, glancing at her phone’s screen. Almost one o’clock. Maybe her father left to make the 3 p.m. flight?
“He’ll see we aren’t there.” Celeste leaned on the reception desk and turned to face Jess. “Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”
“Can I get the wifi code?” Jess asked Vittorio, flashing him her best smile. She needed to check her email.
“Yes.” Vittorio’s mustache quivered in a forced smile. He produced a slip of paper with the wifi code. “But it’s very slow.”
Jess took the paper. “Thank you.” She opened her phone and texted a message to her friend Angela: I’m back in Rome - can I stay at your place? No way they were getting out of Rome again, not today. They might need a place for the night. If the text didn’t work, she could try webmail to reach Angela, and see if her dad had emailed her, too.
“Scusi, did you say, Doctor Rollins?” asked a uniformed attendant behind Celeste. “You are looking for him?”
Celeste turned to him. “Yes, Dr. Rollins.”
“I saw him, this morning. He left about ten o’clock, three hours ago.”
“Are you sure?”
The attendant stepped back to open the door for two guests arriving from outside. “Sì,” he said as the guests passed inside. “Dr. Rollins, the famous TV persona. Very nice man. He left this morning, with his friend, the one with the occhiali…the eye glasses.”
“He must mean Roger,” Celeste said to Jess. “His research assistant. Did you meet him?”