Tales of the City 03 - Further Tales of the City

seagull droppings. Then she turned her attention to the Russian island, only two miles away.
    “What about that sentry shack?” she asked the Eskimo. “Won’t he see us cross the strait?”
    “He usually does,” said Andy. “Every week at this time.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    Andy smiled. “Neither would my C.O. That’s why I’d appreciate it if you kept this under your hat.”
    “Of course.”
    “A friend of mine lives on Big Diomede.”
    “I see.”
    “My girlfriend, actually.”
    DeDe and Mary Ann cast quick glances at each other. It was Mary Ann who sought further details. “You mean she …?”
    “She’s a radar technician. The guy in the lookout shack is her brother-in-law. We’re kind of a family operation out here. If your kidnapper made it to Big Diomede, Jane will know about it.”
    Half-an-hour later, Andy docked the boat on the far side of the big island, out of sight of Little Diomede.
    “Wait here,” he told the women. “You’ll be O.K. If there’s any news, you can come ashore with me later.” He leaped out of the boat and bolted down the dock to the shore.
    Presently, a female figure appeared on the rocky ridge above the harbor, jumping from boulder to boulder until she reached the sand. Then Andy and Jane were in each other’s arms, spinning like a couple in a corny commercial.
    Mary Ann felt a curious kinship with them, seeing herself suddenly as Deborah Kerr in The King and I.
    Cling very close to each other tonight—I’ve had a love of my own, like yours …
    As usual, Brian was there when she needed him, nestled cozily in her heart.
The Eskimo lovers talked for several minutes, well out of earshot of DeDe and Mary Ann. When Andy returned, his face conveyed the news. “I’m sorry,” he told DeDe.
    “Nothing?”
    “I’m afraid not,” he replied. “They just haven’t been here.”
    “Could she let us know if …”
    “Of course. She’ll keep an eye out.”
    There was a long agonizing silence. Then Mary Ann turned to DeDe. “What do you want to do?” she asked.
    A single tear rolled down DeDe’s face. “I want to go home,” she said.
    “We will, then,” said Mary Ann. She searched in her windbreaker for a Kleenex, handing it to her friend. “We won’t give up on this, DeDe. I promise you we’ll find them.”
    As Andy shoved off from the dock, Mary Ann cast a final glance at the shores of the Soviet Union.
    Jane was still standing there. Seeing Mary Ann, she smiled shyly, then lifted her hand and waved.
    Mary Ann, of course, waved back.

Eden Revisited
    A THICK SUMMER FOG HAD SETTLED OVER GOLDEN Gate Park by the time Prue arrived at the tree ferns. Shuddering slightly at the eerie familiarity of it all, she turned up the collar of her Montodoro trench coat and plunged into the wilderness.
    Vuitton ran ahead of her up the path, chasing a squirrel to the edge of the U-shaped ridge. When she called to him, he made a rapid decision to ignore her altogether.
    “Vuitton!” she called. “Come back here this second!” She was terrified of being left alone.
    The wolfhound turned, wagged a cursory greeting to her, and bounded into the green-black depths of the rhododendron dell.
    She ran after him, yelling. “Vuitton! COME BACK, GODDAMNIT!”
    It was pointless, of course. Vuitton knew where he wanted to go. He even knew where she wanted to go. He would simply get there before she did. Why should that strike such fear in her heart?
    She found the familiar path through the rhododendron dell and maintained a brisk pace, catching occasional glimpses of Vuitton’s champagne-colored fur amid the foliage. As she searched for the bush that marked the entrance to Luke’s secret enclave, a foghorn bleated mournfully in the distance.
    Vuitton, as usual, led the way. Barking deliriously, the wolfhound doubled back, burst through the gateway shrub and danced in circles around his mistress.
    “Stay here!” she ordered him. “Heel, Vuitton, heel!”
    But he was off again, scampering down the crumbly slope that led to the shack. When Prue caught sight of the dwelling, she had second thoughts about the search she had planned to conduct. She was reminded of a summer years ago in Grass Valley when she had explored her father’s bedside table and found a package of Trojans there. Some mysteries were better left alone.
    Vuitton, however, was outside the door of the shack, yapping his silly head off.
    When no one responded to his bark, Prue stumbled down the slope and