The Omega Factor(43)

“I do now,” he said. “But that took time.”

He kept his eyes locked on the prioress, who busied herself with perusing the flowers offered for sale.

“I loved you, Nick. I still love you. I’ll always love you.”

“And I you.” The words were bittersweet to hear and even harder to say. “But it’s tough competing with God.”

She chuckled. “He doesn’t compete. He doesn’t have to.”

No, he doesn’t.

“I was hoping we’d have this conversation,” she said. “It’s another reason why I wanted you to come here. The main one was I just wanted to see you again. Of course, I never dreamed all this would happen.”

“The unexpected seems to follow you, Kelsey.”

Two women approached the prioress. Both mid-thirties, one with short hair, the other longer. One was the woman who’d attacked him last night. The one he’d KO’d with the laptop. She bore a violet bruise with brown shadows on the side of her face. Both women wore gray dresses below their knees and veils that draped their necks. Perhaps they thought their religious garb would offer an added measure of protection since, after all, who’d ever suspect a nun of doing anything wrong? They certainly hadn’t come from the convent. No. They’d vacated that refuge last night before the police arrived.

Smart play. So he wasn’t dealing with dummies.

He was safely hidden behind one of the booths, out of their sight. The women chatted for a moment. Three nuns in a friendly conversation. Not a soul paid them any attention. Then the prioress handed over the laptop and left. The prioress had been easy to follow. These two, though, were another story. He noticed how they both seemed constantly aware of their surroundings. Checking the lay of the land. The one with the laptop headed off first, the other with the bruise lingered behind, off to the side, watching, ensuring that no one was following. He’d been with the police last night at the convent, and though they’d only encountered the mother superior, his face was definitely familiar to at least one of them.

Thankfully, he was a step ahead.

“She just gave the laptop to two Maidens of Saint-Michael,” he told Kelsey.

“I have the blue dot blinking on the map,” she said.

Kelsey had his computer with the tracking program that came with every Apple. No need for him to follow. Technology would do that for him. Finally, both nuns left the square, headed south, in the opposite direction of the bridge that led over the river toward the convent.

No surprise there.

“It’s all good,” he said to Kelsey, wanting to give them both some comfort. “Don’t feel bad about following your convictions. You did what you had to do. Yeah, it hurt. But I’m a big boy. The main thing is that you’re happy with the choice.”

And he meant it.

Sure, he’d love to be the one who made her happy. But seeing her, and realizing that she actually was happy, loosened the grip on his chest that he’d lived with for nine years.

He liked to recall the good times. And there were many during the three years they were together. They met in a bookstore. The Poisoned Pen in Scottsdale. They both lived in Arizona. He working for the FBI. She for the local museum of contemporary art. They’d each had an interest in a travel log written by a woman who spent a month in Bali. With only one copy in the store he’d insisted she take it, but asked for a cup of coffee together in return. Three hours later they had dinner, then spent the next few days getting to know each other. The mutual attraction had been there from the start. No question. Was there such a thing as love at first sight? Before Kelsey he would have said no. Now? He wasn’t so sure. They dated two years before he proposed, and their honeymoon would have been in Bali.

But that was not to be.

“Do you still have a lock on the laptop?” he asked, his mind returning to the problem at hand.

“They’re moving south. And, so you’ll know, I am happy.”

Good to hear.

He headed after the laptop, but stayed back, down a narrow side street lined with rows of shops that sported residences above. Plenty of people moved all around. More than enough cover.

“I handled things all wrong,” she said to him. “I had my doubts for several months before the wedding. I should have said no when you asked and explained my dilemma then. But I thought it all an illusion. Something I could ignore. I was wrong.”

If she’d left him for someone else there were emotions at the ready. Jealousy. Anger. Bitterness. Resentment. But to join a convent and devote your life to God? That one did not come with instructions. Her going radio-silent afterward had actually helped, since at the time he hadn’t known what to say to her anyway. Instead, he dealt with the pain privately and, over time, learned to live with it. His family helped. Thank goodness he’d had them. Now, all these many years later, he knew that her rejection was not personal in any way. Far from it, in fact.

“Bali would have been great,” she said.

He agreed.

“They’ve stopped,” she told him in his ear.

He halted too.

“Still not moving,” she said. “The dot is blinking over the Novotel Gent Centrum. A hotel.”

Which made sense.

They had to flee to somewhere last night.

Okay. The bait had been taken.

Now set the hook.