Tales of the City 03 - Further Tales of the City

went down awfully fast.”
    The orphans flashed mustardy grins at her. She marveled at how soon children could forget a hurtful situation. Then she reached across the table and stroked Luke’s hand. “Do I dare risk the little girls’ room?”
    “Go ahead,” he winked. “The experience will do you good.”
    The bathroom proved to be pungent with disinfectant, but surprisingly clean. She was there for five minutes, taking care of business and thanking the powers-that-be that her first significant conflict with Luke had fizzled out before it exploded.
    When she returned to the dining room, their table was empty. Luke and the orphans were gone.
    “Excuse me,” she asked the man behind the counter. “My friend and the children, did they …”
    “They paid up and left,” said the man.
    “What? Left? Where did they go? Did they say?”
    The man shrugged. “I figured you’d know.”

Panic in Sitka
    T HE MAN BEHIND THE COUNTER SAW THE CONFUSION IN Prue’s face and managed a kindly smile. “Maybe he just expects you to … catch up with him.”
    “He didn’t say anything?”
    “No ma’am. Just paid the bill and took off.”
    Prue stared at him, mortified, then glanced at the empty table again. Luke had left a tip, she noticed. What in God’s name was happening? Was this his way of punishing her? That little tussle over the float plane trip certainly didn’t justify this kind of childish stunt.
    And what right had he to involve the orphans in this … this … whatever it was? Prue was livid now, scarlet with humiliation. There had better be a damn good explanation.
    She left the restaurant and looked both ways down the street. They were nowhere in sight. To her right, the little gray-and-white frame Russian cathedral offered refuge to a steady stream of tourists. Maybe that was it. Maybe the children had grown restless while she was in the rest room, and Luke had taken them to the next logical stop on their tour of Sitka.
    Maybe he had expected her to know that.
    She entered the cathedral, paid a two-dollar donation, and stood in the back, scanning the room. She recognized several people from the Sagafjord, including the loud brunette who hung out with Frannie Halcyon, but Luke and the orphans were not there.
    Out in the sunlight again, she considered her alternatives. If Luke was, in fact, trying to teach her some sort of lesson, then he could just go to hell. She could see the town on her own, if need be. On the other hand, what if some unforeseen emergency had arisen which had demanded that Luke leave the restaurant?
    But what could have happened in five minutes?
    She strode back to the restaurant, surveying it once more through a grease-streaked window.
    Nothing.
    Keep calm, she ordered herself. There’s an explanation for this. If he had planned on upsetting her, he had succeeded completely. She would never let him know that, though. She would not let him see her cry.
    Reversing her course, she walked in the direction of the ship, casting anxious sideways glances down the cross streets. When she was three blocks from the cathedral, she passed a narrow alleyway where a small furry figure caught her eye.
    It was one of the orphans. The little girl.
    She was standing at the end of the alleyway, framed prettily against a weathered wooden building.
    “Hey!” shouted Prue.
    The little girl remained immobile for a moment, looking confused, then waved tentatively.
    Her name, thought Prue. What was it?
    Remembering, she yelled again. “Anna! It’s me! Is Mr. Starr down there?”
    Her answer came in the form of a looming shadow … and then Luke himself, lunging in from the left to snatch up the startled child.
    “Luke! For God’s sake, what are you doing?”
    His head pivoted jerkily, like the head of a robot, as he turned to look into her terrified face. The alien rage in his eyes made her blood run cold. Who was this man? Who in the world was he?
    She ran towards him, screaming: “What have I done, Luke? Just tell me what I’ve done!”
    But he was gone again, sprinting down another alleyway with Anna under his arm.
    Prue kept running, her heart pounding savagely in her chest. She watched Luke cross a vacant lot, then disappear into a thicket of weeds and wildflowers. Where was the other orphan, anyway? What had he done with Edgar?
    When she tried to follow, her heel caught on a rusty bedspring, wrenching her violently to the ground. She lay there, disbelieving, choking on her sobs while blood