“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” she whispered to Gabe.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He came to a halt at the counter and studied the artfully arranged breakfast pastries behind the glass. “The only other place open at this hour is the Total Eclipse. You don’t want to eat breakfast there, trust me.”
“Good point. Any restaurant that uses the motto ‘Where the sun don’t shine’ probably isn’t a terrific breakfast spot.”
“Right. Besides, those corn bread muffins look incredible. I’m going to have two. What do you want?”
“People are staring at us.”
“Yeah?” He glanced around curiously, nodded civilly at the people he recognized and then turned back to the croissant display. “So what? You’re a Harte. I’m a Madison. Put the two together in this town and you’re bound to get a few stares.”
“It doesn’t bother you?”
“Nope.”
“Of course, a few stares don’t bother you,” she muttered. “You’re a Madison.”
“You got that right.”
He approached the middle-aged woman dressed in a long, pale robe standing behind the counter. She wore a white scarf over her graying hair and a pristine white apron. A crescent-shaped amulet hung from a chain around her neck.
“May the light of future history be with you,” she said politely.
“Thanks,” Gabe said. “Same to you. I’ll have a couple of those corn bread muffins and a cup of coffee, please.” He looked over his shoulder. “Decided what you want, Lillian?”
She hurried forward. “A croissant, please. And green tea.”
“For here or to go?” the woman asked.
“For here,” Gabe said.
“Say, I recognize those voices,” boomed a whiskey-and-cigar voice from the other side of a curtained doorway.
Lillian suppressed a small groan and summoned up a smile for the husky, robust woman dressed in military fatigues and boots who appeared in the opening. Arizona Snow had long since passed the age that officially placed her in the senior citizen category but she had enough energy for a far younger person. She also had a cause.
“Well, now, I call this perfect timing,” Arizona Snow said with evident satisfaction.
“Morning, A.Z.” Gabe said. “How’s the conspiracy business these days?”
“Those bastards up at the institute laid low for a while after your brother and Hannah managed to put a spoke in their wheel, but things are heating up again.” Arizona beamed at Lillian. “Good to see you back in town.”
“Nice to see you, too,” Lillian said. She waved a hand to indicate the bakery. “What are you doing here?”
“Regular weekly briefing with the Heralds.” Arizona lowered her voice to what she no doubt thought was a confidential level. “Instituted the routine a couple of months ago after I got to know ’em better and discovered that they’re not naïve dupes of the agency like most everyone else around these parts. They understand what’s happenin’.”
“Glad someone does,” Gabe said.
Arizona leaned a little farther out the doorway, swept the outer room with a quick glance and then motioned to Lillian and Gabe. “Come on back. I’ll bring you up to date, too.”
“Uh, that’s okay, Arizona,” Lillian said hastily. “We’re a little busy this morning. Aren’t we, Gabe?”
“Don’t know about you.” Gabe put some money down on the counter. “But I’m in no rush.”
“You’renot?” In her wildest flights of imagination she would never have envisioned him willingly going down the rabbit hole into the alternate universe that was Arizona Snow’s world.
He glanced at her, brows raised. “What?” he asked amused.
“Don’t you, uh, have some telecommuting to do?” she asked weakly.
“It’ll keep.”
Arizona gave Lillian a knowing look, squinting slightly. “Hannah and Rafe weren’t real interested in what was going on up at the institute, either, until it was damn near too late.”
Lillian knew when she was beaten. She tried and failed to come up with an excuse but nothing came to mind. The bottom line was that the Hartes and the Madisons owed Arizona Snow. She was more than a little eccentric but a few months ago it had been her meticulously kept logbooks that had provided the clues Rafe and Hannah had needed to identify a murderer.
“I suppose we can stay for a few minutes,” Lillian said.
“Forewarned is forearmed.” Arizona held the curtain aside.
“Can’t argue with that,” Gabe said. He picked up his muffins and coffee and went around the counter.
Lillian reluctantly collected her croissant and tea and trailed after him.
Arizona let the curtain fall behind them. Lillian stopped at the sight of the three men and two women grouped around a large, floured worktable. All were dressed in Herald-style attire, complete with robes and ancient-looking jewelry. Their ages were varied. The youngest was a man whose long hair was neatly bound up in a white sanitary cap. Lillian thought he was probably in his mid-twenties. The oldest was a woman with silver hair and a matronly figure. A tall man with a shaved head and a stately air appeared to be the authority figure in the group.
The Heralds regarded Lillian and Gabe with serenely polite expressions.
Arizona took up a position at the head of the table and fixed everyone in turn with a steely look.
“Gabe, Lillian, meet Photon, Rainbow, Daybreak, Dawn, and Beacon.” She gave the Heralds a pointed look. “Gabe and Lillian are friends of mine. Take it from me, you can trust ’em. Fact is, in this town, you can trust anyone with the last name of Harte or Madison.”
Lillian nodded, determined to be polite. “Good morning.”
Gabe inclined his head in an easy greeting. He set his mug down on a nearby table and took a bite of one of the muffins on his plate.
“Great corn bread,” he said.
Photon, the man with the shaved head who seemed to be in charge, said, “Thank you. We do our best to introduce the light of future history into all our products. But we’re only human. Sometimes our negative thoughts get into the dough in spite of our best efforts.”
“Light’s your secret ingredient, huh?” Gabe picked up the remaining portion of the muffin. “Works for me.” He took another bite.
Arizona picked up a large rolling pin and rapped it smartly on the table to get everyone’s attention.
“Enough with the chitchat,” she said. “Got a briefing to get through here. Not like we have time to waste. The future of this town, not to mention the whole country, is hanging in the balance.”
Everyone obediently moved a little closer to the table.
Arizona cleared her throat loudly.
“Now, then, as I was sayin’ before I heard Lillian and Gabe out front, I’ve put the evidence together and it’s become real clear why they’re building the new wing at the institute. Official word, of course, is that it’s supposed to be additional office and conference space.” She broke off to give everyone at the table a meaningful look. “But I think everyone here knows that’s just another one of their lies.”
Lillian studied the map spread out on the table. It showed the hillside above town where the Eclipse Bay Policy Studies Institute was located. A handful of photos that looked as if they had been snapped with a long-range lens were scattered around the edges. They were pictures of what was obviously a construction zone at the institute. She could make out a truck and something that looked like electrical equipment.
Gabe leaned over the photos. “Good long-range recon shots, A.Z.”
“Thanks.” A.Z. allowed herself a proud smile. “Took ’em with my new surveillance camera. A genuine VPX 5000. Latest model. Replaces the old 4000 series. Telephoto lens, sniper grip shutter release trigger. Half a dozen filters for day and night photo work. And a real nice leather carrying case.”