See "An Introduction to Detective Monica" for Full Disclaimers.

Part Six

Once I was sure the guy was out of it for, hopefully, the duration, I beat feet, fast.  Fast and as quietly as I could, just to get away from the point of disturbance, in case there was anyone else wandering the grounds with an Uzi.  I mean, people get guns, they get overconfident, and tend to spray bullets over the countryside at the drop of a rock.  Or scuff of shoe.  Or thud of body hitting the ground.  You get the idea.

And Friend followed along.  Which musta been funnier than hell, if someone had been watching . . . this small woman with an Uzi in one hand and a large purse slung bandoleer-fashion, running along with a miniature horse galloping sturdily behind her.  Especially as I kept stumbling over grass tussocks -- or  something, I have no idea what.  Let's just say that the grounds of the chateau hadn't been in the proper smooth, velvety condition required of well-kept estate lawns for some years now.  I didn't fall -- quite -- but sure kept doing little buck-and-wings as I was scampering along.

Fortunately, there were a couple of outbuildings I was able to dodge around to confuse any possible followers.  As I figured they'd be close to whatever back entrance the grounds had, I kept an eye out while circling what looked like a falling-in storage place, a falling-in barn, a falling-in garage, then a falling-in pigsty.  Or something that smelled truly awful.  Brought back not so sweet memories of the barge.  I mean bilge.  Whatever.  Luckily enough, after one last dodge around a truly ancient haystack (also falling-in, or maybe simply decomposing), I felt and vaguely saw gravel and dirt under my feet.  A road, hallelujah!

Unfortunately, simply trotting down the road wasn't an option.  What, be right out in the most obvious position of plain sight?  Uh, yeah.  No, I had no ambition to be recaptured  that fast.  Like, immediately.  So I kept on going until we hit one of those little clumps of trees, and ducked in among them for a little breather.  Plus checked my backtrail.

Very conveniently there wasn't any sight or sound of pursuit.  Yet.  I didn't quite breathe a sigh of relief.  I had no idea how much longer it would be before someone stumbled over the goon I'd left flat, or the empty room I'd been in.  In either case, it would mean a major alarm being raised.  Which would be most unfortunate.  For me, that is.  I didn't think I could hide among clumps of trees much after sunrise, even though they were a little thicker here back behind the chateau.  Not to mention had more underbrush than what I'd seen that day from my ground-level window view.  Still, my best bet was to get the heck off the grounds ASAP and worry about anything else later.  Like where Duncan might be, and in what condition; not to mention where  I was.  Let's just say, after a few minutes of thinking, I was  very glad to have that Uzi, noisy though using it would be.

Anyway, after a few minutes of breathing and looking and not seeing or hearing anything, I got up slowly and started sidling through the trees as quietly as I could.  Which was reasonably quietly; after all, this was France, and it was almost winter.  There'd been a lot of rain, all the dead wood was wet, and nothing went 'snap' or anything.  Only trouble was Friend; he was galumphing along happily making almost enough noise for a full-size horse.

I was about ready to try shushing him -- as if  that would have done anything -- when he suddenly stops and gives that little alarm snort of his again.  Which scared me to death; if anyone was sneaking up on us, they were a lot better than I was, plus their sounds had been hidden by the noise Friend was making . . . so who knew  how close that someone might be?  Matter of fact, I was  so scared that I dropped.  Right then.  Down flat on the ground and rolling, in hopes that I might be able to get out of reach, then hop up and jab the muzzle of the Uzi into anyone trying to jump me.

There was just one little problem.  I rolled right  into the Someone's legs.

****

Whew, this is gonna be a long one, isn't it?  Sorry -- I had to stop and eat some lunch earlier.  My presence was urgently required and an excuse wasn't acceptable.  (Right, like this makes any difference to you -- you're reading email, for heaven's sakes . . . ) And then one thing led to another, and . . . oh well.

Okay, where was I?  Oh, yeah -- in amidst a bunch of trees, escaping from Mahoud's chateau, and frantically rolling into Someone's legs.  A great situation, you bet.

Well, as it turned out, it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be when I first whammed into two very solid legs.  Solid, that is, until I hit them; then a voice above me said, "Aaaghh!" in a pissed-off whisper and Someone did a little dance over my stomach, trying to keep upright.  This, of course, did not do me much good; I let out this sort of pained wheeze and waved my arms around a bit, managing somehow to hit the stomach-dancer a good one in the shins with the barrel of the Uzi.

Naturally, this must've hurt a good bit.  The Someone hopped back on one foot and let out a stream of what were probably curses, although I couldn't tell.  For one thing, they weren't in English; for another, the Someone was still whispering.  Whoever this was wanted to be as quiet as I did, which I couldn't help but wonder at.  This with the little part of my brain that wasn't frantically trying to get some air in my lungs.  In the middle of all this, while I was wheezing desperately and Someone was hopping on alternate legs, grabbing his/her shins and swearing a blue streak, my little friend decided to put in his two cents' worth.  He let out another snort and kicked the Someone in what I later found out was (luckily) the rump.  Someone promptly fell right on top of me.  That little horse definitely packs quite a wallop!

Fortunately, Someone's impact knocked the rest of the air out of me enough that I could actually get my lungs functioning again.  When I did, I frantically joined Someone in trying to wiggle away from each other to get upright.  Of course, we chose the same direction to wiggle in, and ended up even more tangled.  This was when I discovered that the Someone was 1) very definitely male, and 2) a familiar male, at that.  (Just never you mind how I figured that out, some things are private.)

Well, I joyously squeaked "Duncan!" in this teeny little voice and wrapped my arms around his neck, which in hindsight wasn't the smartest thing to do.  But I was so happy to see -- uh, feel -- him!  I mean, here he was, coming to the rescue, my knight in shining armor!!  Okay, so it's a shining black car, never mind.  It's the thought that counts.

Duncan's response to this happy welcome was, and I quote, "Ouch!"  So romantic.

Well, I couldn't blame him.  I apologized (in a whisper) for whacking him with the Uzi, in the head this time.  He said my name in this stunned voice and stopped trying to get to his knees, so I seized the opportunity to confirm my identity.  When he broke from the first kiss, he said my name again, even more surprised, and took his own opportunity to check out my identity.  That kiss seemed to satisfy any doubts on his end and he hauled me to my feet.  So, naturally I expected the next course of action would be for Duncan to grab me and retreat, leaving Mahoud behind gnashing his teeth until we could come up with something to take care of the bum.

This isn't quite what happened.  Well, first I had to grab Friend; apparently he wasn't too sure of Duncan, and as soon as we got up, he started making little squeals and stomping a bit.  I couldn't really see him -- what, a black horse on a dark night?  - but I just knew from the sound of him that his ears were pinned back flat.  So I told Duncan to stand still and I stumbled over to Friend and hugged him and made googly noises at him and told him Duncan was a Good Guy.  Of course Duncan asked me  who the hell I was talking to.  There was a stunned silence when I told him, then he just repeated, "A miniature horse," in this somewhat blank tone.  I said yeah, but could we be astonished elsewhere?  I didn't want to run into any more goons, or Mahoud himself, for that matter.

Mention of Mahoud snapped Duncan right back into action mode.  Before I knew it, he was hustling me along back to where he'd parked the car, while I was rattling off a description of every place I'd been in the chateau, plus the outbuildings I'd been dodging through.  I kept trying to get a question or two in, but he'd only shush me and ask another question of his own about the layout of the place and how many people might be running around.  By the time he'd gotten all of the info from me, we were at the car, which was parked outside where the fancy wall turned into a hedge -- with a gate in it, yet!

Strangely enough, or maybe not, no one else had bumped into us; or maybe Duncan had already taken out anyone in that section of the grounds before he ran into me.  He didn't mention it.  However it happened, we breezed right out of there and off the grounds with no problems whatsoever.  Although when Duncan halted at the car, he did nearly jump out of his skin when Friend (who had trotted happily after us) gave him a nudge, just out of habit, I guess.  Man, does that man have reflexes!!  He had that sword of his out before I could even open my mouth.  Fortunately, Friend was making whuffling noises, so Duncan didn't slice his head off or anything; he managed to stop himself in time.  Then he stood there and breathed deeply for a few seconds.

When he finally sighed and turned back to me, I asked him if he wanted the Uzi.  He said, "The  what!?", so I had to explain all that very quickly.  I couldn't see the expression on his face, of course, but from the tone of his voice when he told me no, I'd better have something to defend myself with, I think he was getting progressively more stunned.  Which is why I was good and cooperated obediently when he picked me up, set me on the hood of the car and told me sternly to "Stay right here!  No investigating noises, no calling for help, no flagging down other cars, no  nothing!  Got it?" I nodded and said so, right back to him.  He still looked at me suspiciously for a few seconds, but I just smiled up at him and said with the Uzi I'd be perfectly fine, and yes, before he asked, I  did know how to handle one of them, I had over 100 hours of practice in on it.

He didn't say anything to that; well, he did shake his head a little, like he wasn't quite sure whether to believe his ears or not.  Then he grabbed me so tight I squeaked again and gave me  such a kiss!  I was holding onto the Uzi, of course, and nearly squeezed off a couple of rounds, before I let go of it and grabbed him back.  When he came up for air he told me he loved me, he was damned glad I was alive, and I'd bloody well better  still be alive after he'd taken care of Mahoud.  Then he was gone, back towards the chateau.

So whee, I got to wait.  And wait.  Yeah, I know, it just seemed like it was taking forever.  But even with my little clock in my head, I was  positive that I was sitting there for hours and hours.  I talked to Friend, I checked the magazine on the Uzi, I fiddled with the safety, I scratched Friend behind the ears, I carefully kept my ears open, I wriggled into a more comfortable position, I talked to Friend.  Yeah.  And worried.  For what felt like three solid hours, only it turned out, as it happened, to be just around one hour.

After about 45 minutes or so I faintly heard some sort of commotion coming from the direction of the chateau.  No, it wasn't gunfire, as you'd think.  And of course I couldn't hear voices from that far away.  But there was something that sounded like several explosions, and a lot of bright light flickering from the general vicinity of the chateau.  I started wondering what, if any, pieces of a human body you could expect to see after it had been blown up.  Then hastily switched to wondering exactly how much the average Iranian antique dealer was likely to be involved in illegal arms shipments.  Not that I have any experience in what different types of explosions might sound like; I have no idea if those could have been from, say, shells of some sort.  Or God-knows-what.  Actually, it looked more like star shells during a fireworks display; or maybe lightning.  Whatever the heck it was, it was pretty noisy if I could hear it; we were about half a mile away!  I had to calm Friend down, too, he started getting nervous; of course, he had a lot better ears than I did, even though the sounds were all that ways away.  Yeah, the chateau had big grounds . . .

Sooo, another 15 minutes or so go by, and I actually start talking to Friend a little more loudly . . . you know, 'cause I wasn't hearing anything, and it shouldn't have taken  that long, and I was afraid I  wouldn't hear anyone approaching, and I was trying to distract myself from the fact that I was starting to cry.  I  hate crying.  It never does any good, and it sure as hell doesn't make me feel any better, no matter what anyone says.  Of course, this means that when Duncan came down the road I didn't notice him until Friend stopped paying attention to me and snorted again.  I looked up then, I was getting to be able to tell some of his snorts apart.  And there was Duncan, looking  totally wiped and about ready to drop.

At least I wasn't stupid enough to launch myself at him like a cannonball.  I mean, the guy was exhausted, you could see that; what, he needs something  else to collide with him after what must've been a pretty hard fight?  Right.  So all I did was carefully check that the Uzi's safety was on, put it out of reach of Friend's inquiring little muzzle, and slid off the hood of the car to walk sedately over to Duncan.  Then I grabbed him as hard as I could and really started crying, especially when he wrapped me so close and actually leaned on me.  I mean, the poor guy  had to be really beat to do that . . . or it could've been that he was just really, really glad to be back with me and know that I was safe, too.

Well, I didn't ask him exactly what happened, although I  was curious as heck . . . first because it was more important to get home, and second because I had a pretty good idea.  I didn't think we'd have to worry about Mahoud pestering us any more, and sure enough, there hasn't been hide nor hair of him showing up.  Not that this had anything to do with the fact that as soon as we got home, Duncan cleaned his sword really carefully and checked it over like he was looking for any new nicks or dings . . . I mean, hey, an antique like that, you've gotta take care of properly.  Even if it isn't usual to carry it around with you everywhere.  (I was  right, he  does!  Although I still have no bloody idea of how.) I'm just thankful we didn't get any visits from the police.  I've had enough of them, thank you very much.  The newspapers say they're like, totally baffled about the mysterious deaths at a suburban chateau.

I can tell you, one of the first things I did after getting home was take a nice, long, hot shower.  So did Duncan.  Oh, there were a few things he discussed with me -- like me going out on a walk the day I was snatched, when I'd told him I'd stay on the barge -- but then I pointed out the barge was where I'd been  kidnapped from, so it would have been better if I'd stayed out for an even longer walk!  Plus I'd been careful to leave a note for him.  And if that fellow Green Robe hadn't got all my hackles up, I wouldn't have walked into the guys, and who knows what would have happened?  Everything had worked out for the best.  Not to mention that he's gained a really great new sword for his collection, although it's not a Japanese blade.  This one's a scimitar.  Has an ivory hilt with a whopping great ruby for the pommel-nut, carved with what Duncan tells me is a saying from the Koran.  He says it dates back to the third Crusade or something, and no, he doesn't plan to put it on display for a while.

And of course I did tell him about Green Robe -- and the fact that the guy was looking now as if he actually had some idea of how to use  his sword.  Duncan looked startled and went into question mode again, which I didn't mind at all.  That guy makes me nervous, fuzzy slippers or not.  We're going to keep a really good eye open for him, just in case.  If he followed Duncan all the way to Paris -- it's doubtful it's coincidence!  - then he should be showing up some other time.  Then, maybe, we can turn the tables and find out what the heck he's up to.

Oh, and sometime during the evening, in between eating and relaxing and showing each other how relieved we were that the other was okay and in one piece -- poor Duncan had been frantic for me, when we first got home he'd hardly let go of me for the first hour or so, and kept apologizing again.  I'm going to have to get him to stop taking blame for  everything that happens in our lives; I mean, yeesh!  You'd think the guy had nothing but enemies out there plotting to destroy his life!  I had to get pretty firm with him and tell him some of the examples from  my life of weird things that happened to me all the time -- especially when I was dating Weasel -- just to get the idea across that I hadn't been living the life of a quiet, reclusive sort  before I'd met him!  After all, it's not like I was a librarian or anything, doing nothing but look after books all day.  I mean, I  was a Detective 2nd Class, too!  No doubt all  sorts of odd events will keep coming up in my life!

He kinda choked again at that statement, and agreed.  I just smiled fondly at him and said it was okay by me if he wanted to laugh, it would do him good.  His jaw dropped for a sec, then he got the most mischievous grin I've ever seen on him and he finally started giggling.  Which naturally ended up with both of us laughing our heads off and feeling a lot better afterwards.  Especially since most of said giggling was done in bed.

Well, after all the excitement, we've been doing nothing much but recuperating the last couple of days, although that looks like it's going to be changing.  Duncan got an email today that Richie's coming to visit, which made Duncan frown for some reason, although he wouldn't tell me why.  And Adam will be coming with him, which was a bit of a surprise; not that the guy would be coming to Paris, apparently he lived and worked here several years while doing graduate student work.  The surprise is actually two things.  1) Richie and Adam are flying over  together; and 2) they're bringing someone with them.  (I hear you saying, "Oh??  So who is it and why is that so interesting, huh?") Well . . . remember I mentioned that Richie had a new girlfriend before we left . . . only she seemed to be playing him and Adam off each other?  Yeah; it's Rosebud!!  And her name actually does appear to be Rose!

I have  no idea how an innocent-looking little thing like her did it, but they  both seem to be dating her, and  both are paying for her tickets . . . and  both are going to be staying in a big suite -- with her! -- at some fancy hotel over here!!!  They've already told us they're taking us out to dinner with them, all five of us.  Duncan looked kinda stunned again -- well, hell, my mind boggles too.  I mean . . . this is just a little more than kinky.  And if it's not kinky, then what the heck are they doing all staying in the same hotel suite, huh?  Not that I really care; matter of fact, I was giggling at Duncan's expression when he heard all that.  It's not really the three of them together that shocks me -- it's the idea of Richie and Adam being part of the threesome!  One or the other I could see, somehow . . . but with each other in the group?  I'm looking forward to seeing this.  They'll be coming in next week; Duncan says we'll have to go shopping again.  I tell him he's spoiling me.  He says that's the idea.

So things have calmed down again, and Duncan and I are, unbelievably, having an absolutely blissful time just getting to know each other better and relaxing.  I still can't believe this has happened, but hey, I'm going to kick True Love out the window?  'Cause I think it is.  So what if the guy is several years older, and has a rather interesting life, not to mention some downright mysterious . . . ahh . . . priorities?  Why do you think I wanted to go into investigating work?  I was bored to tears with the other kind of jobs I was getting, that's why!  And I love Duncan so much it hurts, which is not the kind of situation that you find every day.  He's even promised to start teaching me the sword, which I was leery about asking about . . . but he actually seem relieved that I asked, isn't that great?  None of this macho bull about women or anything, either.  The sweetie.  *sigh*

Now there's only one little problem left.  My Friend.  Betcha thought I'd forgotten about him, didn't you?  Hah!!  He helped me escape, you think I'm gonna give up on my friend like that!!  Besides, that's the  cutest fuzzy widdle tummy -- next to Duncan's, that is [veg] -- and I'm not going to let him get into anyone's hands who might not treat him well.  You should have seen Duncan's face when I told him that, too.  Not to mention his expression when I started coaxing Friend into the back seat of the car when we left the chateau.  He muttered a little to himself the first few days, but seems to be getting used to it now.  Although I don't know what he'll say when I start talking about breeding 'em.  Miniature horses, that is.  After all, Friend is a stallion -- no wonder he was so aggressive during the escape!!  But the little buggers go for outrageous prices, and a girl's got to have some sort of steady money coming in, even if she does have a rich boyfriend madly in love with her.  I mean, just thinking about stud fees alone has me grinning.  Friend has great conformation, too, and I'm sure I'll be able to finagle registration papers somehow.

Soon we can settle down happily to a nice, quiet life on the barge during the rest of our stay.  We've got most of the other problems solved, although Duncan's grumbling about how weird the stern deck of the barge is going to look with that fence; food deliveries can be made, no problem, and of course we don't need tons of anything.  Exercise isn't a problem, there's the whole river walk and umpteen parks, and I've got all the equipment I need.  But what I really need to know is the answer to a question no one ever seems to have asked before.

How do you house . . . er, bargetrain a miniature horse?

Finis

So, once again we see Det. Monica disappearing into the sunset with Duncan, her little horse trotting merrily after . . . all three of them wearing dark glasses.  Looking romantically into that setting sun can be hard on your eyes, y'know . . .  But don't worry, it ain't over yet.  Just take a look over here . . .  It's the next story!

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