“I understand now it was my name you requested. I am Dalden Ly-San-Ter.”
Brittany grinned at that point. “Let me take a wild guess. That’s not a radio, but some kind of language translation recording you’re listening to?”
“It does indeed assist me in understanding this language of yours that I have just learned.”
“Just learned? You speak it amazingly well for only just learning it.”
“Yet do I not have a translation for all of your words. Some require an explanation.”
“Yes, I can see where brand names and slang might throw you off, as well as first names sounding like countries, like mine does.” She took another guess on the next subject. “So, did you just get signed up for pro basketball?” A blank look. “Uh-oh, if that didn’t translate, then you can’t be a professional player, though if you stay in this country long enough, the scouts will probably find you. Sorry for the assumption, but we don’t see seven-footers every day, and those we do see tend to all be players—”
“I am not seven feet tall,” he corrected her in a serious tone.
She chuckled. “So who’s counting an inch or two when you’rethattall? Not me.”
“Is my height a problem?”
“Not a chance. Your height is absolutely perfect, just what the basketball scouts are always on the lookout for.” Herself as well, though she didn’t add that, and he didn’t seem to be understanding anything she was saying again. “Never mind, I don’t think I’ve got it straight yet in my head that you’re not American. Heck, basketball might not even be a sport in your country. Where do you hail from, by the way?”
“Far from here.”
She grinned. “That’s obvious, but how far? Europe? The Middle East? I don’t recognize your accent, and I’d thought television had done an admirable job of introducing us to the full range of foreign accents.”
“My country would be unknown to you.”
She sighed. “You’re probably right. If Shaka-what-you-called-it is its name, I’ve never heard of it. But then, geography was never my strong point. Are you just visiting America, then, doing the tourist thing?”
“My time here will be brief, yes.”
Another sigh. “Well, hell, so much for getting married.” His blank stare this time brought on a chuckle from her. “Don’t panic, that was just a joke to loosen you up. You don’t say much, do you?”
She blushed as soon as she said it, because she hadn’t been giving him much chance to say anything with her nervous, nonstop chatter. A foreigner. Of all the rotten luck. But if they were growing them like this overseas, perhaps she ought to add a trip around the world to her goal list.
Her disappointment was almost a physical ache. Just a visitor. He’d have to leave the country when his visa expired. She’d never see him again…but that wasn’t confirmed yet. His “brief” might only refer to Seaview. Foreigners did still move to America and apply for citizenship these days. Marriage worked wonders in cutting through that red tape, as well. She wouldn’t ask, didn’t want it confirmed, that he was just passing through.
“I will have much to say to you when my task is done here,” he said.
She blinked, having forgotten her question. And those words sounded so promising, they managed to push her disappointment to the side.
“No time for socializing? Man, does that sound familiar,” she remarked. “What task?”
“I seek a man. His name is Jorran, though he may call himself by a different name here.”
“Are you a foreign cop, or a detective?”
“Is that what is required to find him?”
“Wouldn’t hurt.” She grinned. “Detectives have that find-what’s-missing thing down pat. I don’t think we have any in Seaview, though. Plenty of lawyers and even a pawnshop, if you can believe it. But there wouldn’t be much work for a professional detective in a nice quiet town like this. If this guy’s a criminal, you can always ask the local police to help.”
Screeching came from his earphone again, when his hand was nowhere near the unit to have adjusted the sound. What a strange translator—or was it? It seemed more like someone was actually talking to him through it, with the occasional yell thrown in, coaching him on what to say.
“Police would be more hindrance than assistance, when they would ask questions that would lead to many more questions, and have no understanding of the answers.”
“That complicated, huh? Well, your best bet for finding a detective who won’t ask too many questions is to head to San Francisco.”
“There is no time for detours. Nor is the assistance I need of a complicated nature.” His amber eyes seemed to glow for a moment before he added, “You could help me.”
Brittany’s pulse rate sped up rapidly. His toneandlook implied something other than help. “I could?”
