I Do Not Trust You: A Novel Page 20

  “I think we’re good,” Ash said, glancing around.

  “Romantics! Harmony, courage!” a man called to them with a giant smile. “Prambanan now, yes? Beautiful. I guide. Harmony!”

  Ash shook his head, but M stopped. This could be a good idea. “Prambanan is on the other side of Yogyakarta, isn’t it?” she asked in Javanese.

  The man’s smile widened, something M didn’t think possible. “It’s not far,” he answered, shifting into his native language. “I have a van. You shouldn’t miss it. Some think it is even more beautiful than Borobudur. How long will you be here? I also have a speedboat. I can take you to Nusa Lembongan, Lombok and the Gilis, Bali, anywhere you like.”

  “Really?

  “Yes!” He beamed. “It’s the best way to travel!”

  M turned to Ash. “Ever been to Bali?”

  * * *

  “That’s a lot of motor for a vessel this size,” Ash yelled over the booming Honda V-8 powering the jacked-up longboat.

  “Courage! Romantics!” their guide, Agus, called back.

  “Courage,” “romantics,” and “harmony” were his favorite words in English, and made up most of his conversation with Ash.

  “Can’t say it’s not fast,” M shouted. “Or safe.”

  “Pardon. Did you actually just say safe?” Ash tightened the straps on his life jacket.

  M gripped the edges of the bench as the boat gave a particularly hard jounce. It was almost as bad as the way Agus’s van had jolted and jerked on the road to the harbor. “No one’s following us. That’s what I meant,” she said, hands cupped around her mouth to be sure he could hear her.

  He nodded. M took in a long breath. The sun was only starting to set, but she felt as if she’d been awake for days. It only added to the feeling that time was running out. How long until Liza kept her promise to take a piece of Dad?

  M pushed the thought away, locking it in the place she kept all her fears. All she could do was find the last two pieces. And she had no idea where to look. She didn’t even have a continent as a starting place. The hopelessness must have shown on her face, because Ash reached over, resting one hand on her knee.

  “Ah, romantics,” Agus said approvingly. Then he gave a yelp. “Harmony!” He pointed. M saw a dolphin arcing out of the water. A few seconds later, another joined it. They swam alongside the boat, whistling, leaping, flipping. Watching them with Ash beside her, M couldn’t help feeling a little bit of hope and strength return to her.

  “It’s rare to see them this time of day,” Agus called to M in Javanese. “Harmony, harmony!” he added in English.

  The dolphins accompanied them almost to the wharf, then turned and headed back out to deeper water. “Now where?” Agus asked as he docked the boat. “Food? Drinks? Monkeys?” He turned to M, switching to his native language. “You should see the temple and the monkeys in the Sacred Forest. And Tirta Empul, the sacred spring where the priests get their holy water. There are over twenty thousand temples in Bali. I can show you all of them!”

  “I wish we could,” M replied. If she’d been with Dad, or even Mike, they would have done it. They would have spent the day exploring, urging Agus to take them wherever the locals went, asking a million questions the whole time.

  “I will show you the beach borrowed by lost spirits. Or the deaf town where they have their own kind of performing shows.” Agus nodded toward Ash. “Or would he like to climb in the underground caves? Or spas? Where you could get a massage by the ocean?”

  “We don’t have time. But thank you. Thank you so much for bringing us here.” M switched to English. “Thank you,” she said again.

  “Thank you,” Ash echoed. He took out his wallet and gave Agus double what he’d asked for.

  “Picture!” Agus said in English. M gave him her cell and he gestured for her and Ash to move closer together. Ash rested his arm around M’s shoulders, and she slid her arm comfortably around his waist. “Smile!” Agus urged. They both laughed, smiling like they really were a couple off on an exotic vacation.

  Agus handed her cell back. “Romantics, harmony, courage!” he said in farewell, and M and Ash waved as he got back on his boat.

  Then, turning away from Ash, M checked for service, before shooting a message off to Mike. She attached the photos of the glyphs they’d found inside the Buddha’s mouth.

  “The Set followers have no reason to be watching Bali. We can fly out of the airport here,” M said. “As soon as we know where we should be flying to. I just sent Mike the glyphs. I can start trying to translate them, but I’m not so good with Sanskrit.”

  “Let’s find a place up there to sit. At least we can look at the signpost. I was a bit … distracted. I didn’t get to see the glyphs at all.” Ash started toward a row of shops and restaurants that ran along the top of the beach.

  “Okay. I should be able to work out the actual glyphs, I just won’t understand any of the nuance. Mike’s good with Sanskrit,” M said.

  “Like the looks of that one?” Ash nodded toward the enclosed patio of one of the restaurants.

  “I’m not in a tablecloth and china kind of mood,” M answered. “Too much ambiance. How about that one?” She pointed to a tiny warung a little farther down. Its patio was open to the street and palm fronds hung from the peaked roof covering it. The wooden chairs and tables were painted in bright colors and a large chalkboard listed the specials.

  “Fine,” Ash said.

  As they started toward it, M felt the Set pieces in her backpack shift. She stopped, surprised—they’d fallen apart. They had snapped together as soon as she and Ash had left the grounds of the Borobudur Temple, starting up their weird throbbing, and she hadn’t felt them move until now.

  M glanced around, trying to figure out why the pieces had separated. “What?” Ash asked.

  “The Set animal fell apart just now.”

  “Ah.” Ash looked around too. “Perhaps we were wrong about a sacred space triggering movement?”

  “There!” M nodded toward the dashboard of a car parked alongside them. A metal dish rested on top of it, containing palm fronds, a mango, some rice, and a frangipani blossom. She laughed at the baffled expression on Ash’s face. “It’s called a canang sari. It’s an offering to the gods. It must create a sacred space the Set pieces respond to.” She was surprised such a simple, personal thing would make a difference, frankly. She’d assumed it had be something more official, a church or a temple.

  “It’s like the tree in Norway,” Ash said. “There wasn’t a church, but you said the tree itself, the whole grove was sacred—”

  “Their culture worshipped outdoors—” M began.

  “That’s what I mean,” he cut her off. “It’s not about a place, necessarily. What made that oak grove sacred was that people worshipped Thor there. Perhaps that’s all it takes to make a space holy, the intent to honor a god.”

  “Could be,” M agreed. They continued walking, and after several steps, she felt the pieces joining together once more. When they reached the warung, she felt them separate. A woman had just placed a woven mat of banana leaves on the sidewalk. Like the bowl in the car it held flowers, rice, and fruit. The woman lit a stick of incense, then stood and waved M and Ash to one of the two empty tables.

  “They make offerings three times a day,” M said as they sat down. “They’re like you in a way.”

  Ash raised his eyebrows. “How so?”

  “Just in how they constantly bring their god into their lives,” she replied. “I wonder if—” She was interrupted by her cell vibrating.

  “Mike already,” she told Ash. “Give me a minute.”

  M: What do they say?

  MIKE: I’m a genius, but come on. I just looked at the pics.

  M: How long?

  MIKE: Faster if you help. Come to me. You’re so close.

  M: Really?

  MIKE: You have someplace better to be?

  M: Not unless you found the other piece.

  MIKE
: Got a lead on it, but nothing solid yet. Come. I need to see you, sweetie. I want to see for myself you’re okay.

  M: Ash has to come too.

  MIKE: Fine.

  M: See you as soon as I can get there.

  Heart pounding, M looked up to find Ash watching her. “We can go to Mike!” Just the words filled her with fierce joy. She hadn’t seen Mike since Dad died, she’d put even the possibility of it out of her mind.

  Ash paled. “What do you mean, go to him? Why? Where is he?”

  “Translating the glyphs will take a while, and we still have to track down the missing piece from the Templar church. Plus, we need to lay low and hide from Liza and Bob. Mike’s in Thailand. It’s not far.”

  “You’re not going without me,” he said.

  She rolled her eyes. Why would he even say that? They both knew the deal. “I wasn’t planning to. And Mike said you could.”

  She held his defiant gaze until he looked away. “So long as there’s nothing more useful we can be doing, fine.”

  M could tell he wasn’t happy, but she felt lighter just thinking about going to Mike’s. It was the closest thing she had to a home now.

  * * *

  “Mike should be waiting for us,” M said as they inched closer to the immigration counter in the Bangkok airport.

  Ash nodded. It was the third time she’d told him, and each time she sounded more excited than the last. She didn’t seem at all bothered that her boyfriend had been spending time in Bangkok, which everyone knew was famous for the sex trade industry. What was he doing in Thailand, anyway? Ash had assumed he was back in Boston. He wanted to tell M she should be concerned about STDs, but couldn’t think of a civil way to work it into the conversation.

  He’d refrained from asking any questions about Mike, even though his curiosity was overwhelming. It had been good practice keeping his mind where it should be—on Horus. As part of his training, he’d worked to stay focused no matter what Philip threw at him. Yet M managed to distract him quite often. Too often.

  The queue moved again. The unsmiling immigration official waved M forward, and she stepped up, handing him her arrival card and passport, like she’d been through the process a thousand times. She probably had.

  The man snapped her picture with a webcam, stamped the passport and card and handed everything back to her. It was Ash’s turn. He felt uneasy as he gave his documents and had his picture taken. He wished he and M could move from country to country without leaving a trace. They’d booked tickets to several destinations besides Bangkok in case the Set cult—or the Eye—was tracking flight records, but that was far from foolproof.

  The Eye could easily have gotten them fake IDs, but that would only have protected them from Set followers. They needed protection from the Eye as well. How much longer would Philip tolerate Ash being out of contact without taking action? Had he already tried to track them down?

  The immigration agent gave a grunt, and Ash realized the man was holding out his stamped passport. He took it, and he and M cruised through the green “nothing to declare” section of customs. They probably could have been leaving trails of cocaine behind them without being stopped. Clearly even the customs agents didn’t believe people would try to sneak anything into Thailand.

  M checked her cell. “Mike’s waiting!” The happiness in her voice grated on him. She acted like this Mike guy was going to magically make all her worries disappear.

  Ash scanned the signs—Car Park, Medical Clinic, Reception Room for Buddhist Monks, Muslim Prayer Room, Restaurants, Meeting Point, Public Transport, Airport Rail Link—and started in the direction of the meeting point.

  “Where are you going?” M asked.

  “Meeting point.” Ash nodded at the sign.

  “No one meets at the meeting point,” she scoffed. “Well, most people meet at the meeting point, which is why you shouldn’t meet there. Mike’s waiting in front of the Family Mart. Come on.” She charged off, Ash following cautiously.

  When he spotted the sign for the Family Mart, he looked at the people nearby. Which one was the brilliant Mike? He didn’t even know how old M’s boyfriend was, or what he looked like. Was he that waster with the beard? Or the blond one who looked like he’d been head boy every year of his—

  M let out a cry of delight and raced forward, hurling herself at a middle-aged woman in a nun’s habit. The woman wrapped her arms around M and rocked her back and forth.

  Ash slowed down, baffled. Was this Mike’s mother? It couldn’t be. She was a nun. Nuns didn’t have children. Maybe Mike was in some kind of church school and this was the headmistress?

  Still hugging, M and the nun kept talking over one another, asking questions, interrupting as they tried to answer. Abruptly the nun turned to Ash. “Ashwin. I’m Sister Michael.” She stuck out her hand. “Call me Mike.”

  Dumbstruck, Ash shook her hand.

  “Call me Ash,” he replied automatically, trying to process that M’s boyfriend was a nun. He felt muscles relaxing all over his body, muscles he hadn’t even realized were tense. The ever-present, jack-of-all-trades, helpful Mike was a woman. A nun. Middle-aged, her blond hair streaked with gray and the corners of her brown eyes creased with laugh lines.

  Mike reached into her bulging Family Mart bag, pulled out a Dr Pepper and a bag of chips, and handed them to M.

  M immediately ripped into the chips and tossed a handful into her mouth. “Spicy Chili Squid. Betcha can’t eat just one,” she said. She shook the bag in Ash’s direction. He grimaced. They sounded revolting.

  “Ash doesn’t believe in finding pleasure in food,” M told Mike. “Do you have an IV of glucose we could hook him up to?”

  Mike gave her a reproachful look. “Ash, I also have peanuts, crackers with something cheese-like, pineapple cookies, dried bananas, water, Sprite, orange juice, some chocolate, iced tea—”

  “Coconut rolls?” M interrupted.

  “Of course, coconut rolls,” Mike replied. “I spoil her,” she told Ash. “And I intend to spoil you while you’re here. What would you like? If I don’t have it, I’ll find it.”

  “Water and fake cheese crackers, please,” Ash told her, a little dazzled. Mike was one of those people who could make you feel like the only person in the world when she talked to you. Philip was like that too, when he wanted to be.

  “You must both be exhausted. Let’s get you to the car,” Mike said, handing Ash his snacks. She looped one arm around M’s shoulders and started toward the airport exit. “You didn’t tell him I was a nun, did you?” she asked. “His face when he saw me!” Mike bugged her eyes out and dropped her jaw. Ash felt his cheeks heat up. He hoped he hadn’t and never would look anything like that.

  “Actually, I may have let him believe you were my boyfriend,” M admitted, grinning. “It was too much fun watching him get jealous.”

  “I wasn’t jealous,” Ash grumbled, then wished he’d stayed silent when they both laughed. Maybe he had been a little jealous. Why else had he felt that rush of relief when he’d seen Mike wasn’t a bloke?

  “Have you ever been to Thailand?” Mike asked as they made their way to the parking garage.

  He was glad to have something to think about other than how ridiculous he’d looked when he met her. “No, this is the first time I’ve been anywhere in Asia.”

  “Well, you’re young. What are you, twenty-two?”

  “Yes,” he said, surprised she’d guessed so exactly.

  “I’d been to Asia by the time I was three,” M commented.

  Mike ignored her, still focused on Ash. He had the feeling she was studying him, testing him. What would happen if he didn’t pass?

  “So you’ve been in England predominantly?” Mike asked. “And France?”

  “Mostly,” he confirmed. “If you can believe it, I’ve never even been to the States.”

  “Except when he came to Boston to steal my map,” M said cheerfully.

  Right. He’d forgotten about that. “That doesn�
�t count. I was there for less than a day,” he mumbled.

  M reached into the bag Mike was carrying and rooted around until she fished out a packet of cookies. It was as if she’d regressed to being a child again. She was playful, giddy. So much looser and more relaxed. Mike wasn’t just a friend, obviously. She was a surrogate mother, and a good one.

  “I’ve been showing him the world,” M said, mouth full.

  “He couldn’t have a better tour guide. The car’s down here,” Mike told them, leading the way into the parking structure and down one of the rows to a beat-up old Honda Civic. She opened the trunk. “You can throw your gear in there.”

  “I’m going to hang on to mine.” M slid the backpack off and hugged it against her body. Ash could see her fear and stress returning. She’d only been able to relax for those first few moments around Mike.

  He tossed his bag into the trunk and started to get in the backseat. “Take the front,” Mike said. “Your legs are too long for the back.”

  “I don’t mind. You two have a lot of catching up to do,” he replied.

  Mike rolled her eyes. “She’ll be asleep in twenty minutes, thirty at most, and it’ll take us more than three hours to get to the convent. Don’t worry,” she added. “We have several guest cottages that are very comfortable and men often stay in them.”

  “Good to know.” Ash climbed into the front seat and shut the door.

  “We should have a pretty easy ride. The highway from here to Chanthaburi is in good shape,” Mike commented as she got behind the wheel and M settled in the back.

  About a half an hour into their journey, Ash checked on M. “You were right. She’s asleep.”

  “Always happens. She has the gift of being able to nap anywhere, a product of her upbringing. As a kid she didn’t exactly have a regular bedtime.” Mike used the rearview mirror to glance at M.