* * *
Missy flinched. This wasn't just about Nathan and Chandra. For Ron, this was about him and his brothers. About abandonment. About children left without a father. Or a mother. Even if Ron wasn't conscious of it himself.
Missy decided that she couldn't calm the situation down. She had no idea how to do that. But she could bring it to an end.
"Stop it," she said. "Both of you. We've got to get going. If we don't leave now, we won't make any decent time today at all. We don't want to get stuck out on the road somewhere."
Nathan Prickett stood outside his house, looking at the vanishing motorcycles.
Damn Ron Stone's multiple last-minute instructions. Most of which, Nathan granted rather grudgingly, made sense. All of which Nathan distinctly resented having to take from a kid. Much less one of that hippie Tom Stone's kids. As if he wouldn't have been able to manage things himself.
But he had taken them. Because, probably, it would turn out to the best way to handle it all from the don's point of view. If it wasn't, at least it would give him a little maneuvering room. But the don would need to know exactly what had come off here.
He'd done the best he could, under the circumstances. He couldn't very well have said, "I'm one of Francisco Nasi's agents in Frankfurt, so you can leave the stuff with me."
One of the agents, he was sure. He was certain that Don Francisco had others here. If he didn't have a couple of down-timers in place, at least, he wouldn't be competent enough to have the job he did.
Dear Don Francisco.
He concentrated on the report. Better to think about that than to think about how he felt when he saw Chandra leaving, riding pillion behind Missy.
A lot better to think about what Don Francisco needed to know than about the other things Ron Stone had said. The things that Missy had said.
Chandra had not been in his plans. He'd done his best to fit her into his plans. He really had. For a long time now, he had done his best to fit Chandra into his plans.
PART TEN
May 1635
Hurling defiance toward the vault of heaven
Chapter 61
Grantville, May 1635
"Made it," Ron said, as they rolled onto Route 250.
It was very late dusk, almost dark. Even with headlights, they didn't want to be riding these hogs on anything but asphalt after dark. Too many chances of unexpected ruts leading to untimely death.
"Grantville, here we come."
They couldn't find Ed Piazza. He wasn't in his office. It was after regular office hours. They couldn't find Preston Richards. He wasn't at the police station. And, they were told by the people who were in those places, the phones were down. All the phones. The whole phone system, as far as anyone knew.
They couldn't find Piazza or Richards at home, either. They were at a meeting. Somewhere.
They couldn't very well do a room-by-room search of the SoTF administration building and the Grantville city hall.
"What next?" Missy asked.
Neither one of them was on the best of terms with Tino Nobili. The city council had picked him to serve as interim mayor until the special election in June. Actually, they weren't on any terms with him at all and it was a given that Liz Carstairs would beat him next month, so it was hardly worth bothering to try.
Ron was prepared to brave Arnold Bellamy in a good cause, even though he didn't have a sense of humor, but he was at the same meeting. Somewhere.
"You can take the stuff to Dad," Chandra suggested. "At home."
That struck them as reasonable. That would work. Wes had been in on the conversations that sent them off on the expedition to Frankfurt in the first place.
Inez Wiley arrived at Benny Pierce's house by wheelchair, pushed by Veronica Dreeson, who was muttering under her breath. Something about where was a healthy young archduchess when you could use her?
"Open up the door, Minnie!" Veronica yelled as she pounded on the screen. "We know that you are in there!"
Minnie opened it. "How's Mrs. Wiley going to get up the steps?" she asked. "Do you need help? If so, Mr. Pallavicino is here. And the Reverends Jones."
Joe Pallavicino and Simon Jones hauled the wheelchair, with Inez in it, up the steps. Inez realized once more that Grantville was not a handicapped-accessible town in general. There was an occasional ramp, here and there, but generally it was a problem.
Once Inez was settled, Denise looked at her. "We're in trouble," she said. "But how did you find out?"
Inez looked back. "Generically, you have not been in school since Tuesday. Specifically, several people saw Ron Stone, Missy Jenkins, and Chandra Prickett coming back into town along Route 250. On your motorcycles."