Canvas Skies (Reliance on Citizens Makes Us Great!) (14 page)

He nodded.

“And there is one more thing.” I hung my
head.

“That doesn't sound good,” said
Raquelle.

“I was captured on vid. Try to keep Guy from
seeing it, okay?” Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes.

Eberhardt stood and pulled me into a sweaty
yet welcomed bear hug. He mumbled into my hair. “He'll need to see
it. You know that. Do you know when it will air?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea.”

“I can find out for you,” Raquelle said.

It was even worse than I'd expected. I was
the latest feature on Everyday Elite, the show I used to watch to
track potential customers. Now, everyone would know my name and
think of me as either friend or foe. At least they'd caught me as
Kendra and not as Keira. Unfortunately, what should have been in my
favor, the lack of footage, was negated by the speculation that
followed. It was part pity for the rich young lady whose parents
had recently passed away and part scorn as they debated whether or
not I was good enough for Richard Burke III. Ugh! I dropped my head
into my hands.

Aimee came home late that night and found me
curled up on the couch with a box of tissues.

“What's wrong?”

I paused the vid and reversed it back to the
beginning. After we'd watched it from beginning to end, I turned it
off.

“Oh, Keira!” She looked at me curiously.
“How many times have you watched this?”

“Four.”

“Four!”

“And a half.”

“That's at least three times too many.”

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you I got shot.” I
looked at her with tears in my eyes. “Do you want to hear the
details?”

“Um, no. That's okay.” Aimee sat down next
to me.

“Really? Now you don't want to know about
it?”

“Well, I sort of already know what
happened,” she said quietly.

“How could you?”

“Brody told me.”

“Brody did? What, you mean you two talked
about me at lunch?”

“No.” She hesitated. “At dinner.”

“You went out to dinner with him too?”
Yesterday, that would have made me happy.

“Not out, exactly. We ate at his place.”

“What else did you two talk about?”

“Why? Keira, don't you trust him?”

“I thought I did.”

“Did that change because of me?” she asked.
“I didn't think you'd mind after our conversation this
morning.”

Was it just this morning? “No, of course I
don't mind. I saw Brody heading into the Justice Center with Hisoka
today, and I can't figure out why.”

Aimee looked at the now blank vidscreen.
Understanding dawned in her eyes. “You were following him when they
caught you. Did you follow us to lunch too?”

“How can you even ask that?” I looked at her
in surprise. “No, I was keeping shop at Art Fantastique, remember?
And then I trained with Eberhardt, okay? Can't you see I was
working out?” I flung my arm toward the teleview. “It was purely by
accident that I happened to see them.”

“Why don't you just ask Brody what he was
doing there? I thought you two were friends.”

“He'd think I was tailing him, like you just
did. And besides, what if we can't trust him? Do you think he'd
tell us the truth if he's working against us?”

“Do you really think he might be?”

“I just don't know.” I shook my head.

Aimee took a deep breath. “Well, he already
knows who we are. You trusted him with that, right?”

I nodded. “I told him. Wait, no! I never
told him about you. He knows who you are?”

She nodded. “And Scott too. He said the Gov
is after us.”

“Oh, Aimee. What if I was wrong about
him?”

She was silent for a few minutes. Then she
took my hands in hers. “What if you weren't?”

***

Late Saturday morning, someone knocked on
the front door. Aimee had already left for work. I'd slept in and
was sitting on the couch, only this time I wasn't watching the
vidscreen. I stared out the window. I didn't feel like moving. The
sound of knocking grew louder and finally, a key turned in the
lock. Eberhardt entered and punched in the security code.

“Why didn't you answer?” He sat on an
overstuffed chair next to the couch.

I continued to stare out the window. “Did he
see it?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“It's best if you don't train with us for a
while. It could blow your cover and ours.”

“Then how am I supposed to help?” I looked
at Eberhardt. “I didn't even know who I really was until I met you
guys and now,” I faltered.

“Now what?”

“Guy wants me to change.” I sighed. “I feel
like my wings have been clipped.”

“I don't think he wants you to change. I
think he doesn't want to lose you. Here.” Eberhardt held out a
card.

“What's this?” I asked while reaching for
it.

“It's a membership card for an Elite gym not
far from here. No one would think twice about you working out
there. He'll meet you on Wednesday after work. Now get
dressed.”

“Why?”

“We're going shopping. You and Aimee need
gowns for next weekend.”

The benefit. Our first official public date.
The tabloids will have a field day, as will those gossipy Elite
women.

“Come on.” He stood up and held out his
hand. “We're picking up Aimee in a half hour, and then I'm dropping
you two off at Rosella's Boutique.”

“Oh no, that's far too expensive,” I
interrupted.

“And you may not even look at the sales
rack,” he continued, ignoring my interruption.

“Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I'm joking?”

“But that money should be going to help
people!”

“The women at the benefit will be looking
for specific brand names and styles. Guy insisted that you have the
best. Remember, his mother is now head of the board.”

I shook my head sadly as I thought, We could
send two people to safety in Mediterra for the price of the dress
I'm about to buy. Add Aimee's dress to the mix, and we could save a
whole family.

Monday morning passed slowly with only one
customer stopping in to look around. There were no purchases. If
Mondays continued to be slow, I would close shop and use it as a
day off.

Tuesday began the same. No one until shortly
after 10:00. That's when a man arrived with a few large paintings.
He set them down and pulled up his left sleeve. A blue serpent
tattoo on his inner arm struck at a gold coin. I nodded and waved
him into the back room. He dropped off the paintings and left.

I carried some books to the table and began
the lengthy appraisal process. I had just decided the first
painting was authentic when chimes at the front door announced the
arrival of a customer. I looked at the clock. Had so much time
really passed? I closed the door behind me as I entered the front
room. Hisoka stood waiting with a sketchpad under his arm. I
hurried over.

The corners of his warm brown eyes crinkled
when he smiled. “I've brought those sketches we were discussing.”
He looked around, and his gaze settled on the door to the back
room. “Do you have time now?”

I thought about the stolen painting sitting
prominently on an easel against the back wall. Just then, my
stomach rumbled, loudly enough for him to hear. “May I see them
over lunch?”

“Of course...I'm sorry...I should have
offered. I assumed you'd eaten already.”

I smiled. “Do you have enough time?”

“Yes. We've been busy at work, were in
closed session all morning, but they're giving us a lengthy break
to refresh.”

“Um, I'll be right back.” I reached into the
back room and flipped off the lights before entering to grab my
purse. Returning to the front, I dug out my keys and hung a “be
back soon” sign on the door.

At a nearby restaurant, Hisoka pulled out my
chair, a somewhat awkward maneuver with the large sketchpad under
his arm. I wasn't expecting him to pay for my lunch, but he told
the waiter to put it all on one bill. Once again, I was struck by
how different he was from Lance Beckett. Then I had a most
unnerving thought - Would Hisoka constantly remind me of Mr.
Beckett precisely because of their differences? I hurriedly pushed
the thought away.

Hisoka flipped through his sketchpad and
shared a number of preliminary drawings. Simple black strokes stood
out boldly against an ivory background. Shading indicated where the
sun had been when these were drawn. My appreciation must have been
apparent, for when I looked up, his face was glowing with
pride.

“Hisoka.” I hesitated. “What do you talk
about in your lawmaking sessions?”

He closed the sketchpad and set it on an
empty chair. “That's confidential. Would you like to see the new
exhibit at the Tkaron Classical Art Museum?”

“What new exhibit?”

He looked surprised.

“I've only been in town a short time,” I
explained. “What's the theme?” And we were back to discussing
art.

During the walk to the gallery, Hisoka held
my hand. “Lunch was immensely enjoyable. Thank you, Miss
LaFleur.”

I smiled. “I had a nice time too.”

“Are you free on Friday afternoon?” he
asked.

“I can be. I sort of set my own hours. I
should keep the shop open though. What did you have in mind?”

“Nothing that would require you to close
shop. Have an easel ready. I'll bring my supplies along, and we'll
paint.” He gently squeezed my hand.

Eberhardt pulled to a stop in front of the
gym. Bold white letters declared, Forever Strong and Fit. Is that
what they're after? David Harlow had been in contact, and I wanted
to discuss a few things with Keira.

Keira. I pictured the little wrapped box in
my gym bag. Hopefully, my gift would raise her spirits. I knew
simply seeing her would lift mine. I hurried inside.

She stood with her back to the room. A small
black duffel bag hung at her side as she studied the bulletin board
in the lobby. Rules and hours were posted along with a few other
official notices. I hadn't been to a gym since high school,
pre-Tkaron, and didn't relish the thought of working out in public.
Yet, I wanted to do this for her. Plus, people would see us
spending time together, and that was important. That's when I
noticed three familiar wanted posters.

I glanced around. A young man sat at the
front desk. I walked up behind Keira. She turned as I approached
but didn't smile.

I leaned close and whispered. “I need to
take care of something. Could you distract him for a minute?” I
pulled back a bit and shifted my eyes toward the man.

Keira gave a short nod. Instantly, she wore
an expression of happiness and hurried toward the desk. The young
man looked up, not at all bothered by the distraction. Keira stood
to his left and drew his attention as far from me as possible. Then
she leaned over, displaying just a little bit of cleavage and
pointed to some papers on the desk. “I'm new here. May I have a
copy of the hours please?”

“Of course! Here, let me put together a
packet for you. Do you need a registration form?”

“No.” She handed him her card. He looked at
it for a moment before handing it back.

As he shuffled papers, I stepped closer to
the bulletin board and removed the posters as quietly and quickly
as possible. The young man looked away from Keira when I shoved
them into my bag.

“May I help you, sir?”

“Oh, no thank you. Just getting something
for the lady.” I smiled at Keira, and she hurried back with a
packet of papers. She set down her gym bag and placed them on
top.

“I got you something.” I held out a small
wrapped box with a red ribbon tied around the middle. “Open it.” I
handed it to her.

“You didn't have to buy me anything.”

I knew she didn't want me to spend a lot of
money on her, but I had a feeling she would love this. Keira opened
the box and pulled out an individual audiovid device. It had
holographic capabilities for displaying news and entertainment, but
that wasn't why I'd gotten it for her.

“I hope you'll like the music. There's
enough memory for you to add plenty more.”

She turned it on and began thumbing through
the titles: The Sunny Side of the Street, I've Got Rhythm, The Big
Rock Candy Mountains. Her eyes lit up.

“Oh Richard, it's perfect!”

Though she was putting on a show for our
audience of one, the look in her eyes was genuine. Upbeat music
from the Great Depression Era of the early 20th Century had been
her mother's favorite.

“Bring it into the gym,” I suggested. “You
should listen while we exercise.”

She nodded, her eyes still shining. “I
will.”

“Well, let's get started. I'll meet you in
the weight room.”

“Um, I'd prefer to warm up with a run around
the track before using weights. Would that be okay?”

After I changed my clothes and stored my
business suit in a locker, I went looking for Keira. The track
wound beautifully through an interior courtyard. It offered runners
the opportunity to enjoy nature in a controlled environment. I
found her doing hurdle stretches on the ground near some pink and
white tulips. Two men were already competing for her attention.
They'd obviously seen the latest episode of Everyday Elite.

One said, “I understand you don't know too
many people here yet. We'd be happy to show you around.”

The other said, “There's a real nature path
in Liberty Park. It's not the ocean, but it's beautiful just the
same. Would you like to go running sometime?”

Keira kept her head down as she stretched
her quads. She didn't respond to either of them. In fact, she acted
like she hadn't heard them at all. They looked at each other. One
shrugged and reached out to tap her shoulder just as I arrived.