Fee gave a laugh. “Me, too.” She leaned back as their food arrived, and then neither of them spoke for a while.
When she felt more herself again, she glanced around the place, wondering where Grogan had managed to wedge himself.
He’d flitted across her line of sight a few times earlier that day, but she hadn’t seen him in a while.
Unlike with Natta, there was no playful banter via the earpieces with Grogan. He was all business.
“Guess we have to go for the very top end,” Trayla said, pushing her plate away. “The last one on my list.”
“If that’s a bust, I’ll have to go back to that little place near the park and get the green dress,” Fee said.
“And I’ll have to go back to the first place and get the black.” Trayla sipped her water. “We’ve got . . .” She checked her wrist unit. “Four hours before we need to head home and get ready, and we still need shoes.”
Fee had forgotten about shoes. She groaned. Stood up. “Then let’s go. Hope springs eternal we’ll find what we want at this next place.”
They stepped out onto what was a busy street. Fee admired the early afternoon sun shining through the lush green trees that lined the road on either side, the sense of excitement and happiness at being on planet gripping her again.
“Which way?” she asked Trayla.
Trayla glanced down at her portable comm. “Left.”
Fee took a step, the move bringing her level with Trayla, just as the first shockgun shot hit.
The bracelet took it easily, no wobble, no sense of a shudder like with the laser cannon, and she turned in the direction the attack had come from. Although it was too fast to track exactly, she saw the effect of the ricochet when a Balcoan standing in the shade of one of the trees collapsed, his shockgun clattering to the ground.
“Move.” Trayla grabbed her arm and pulled her along, head on a swivel as they walked at a fast clip away from the restaurant entrance.
“Where’s Grogan?” Fee asked. “Do you see him?”
“No.” Trayla slowed for a moment, then angled her body so she could look behind them. “If he’s following, he’s not visible.” She tapped her earpiece. “Lieutenant. Lieutenant.”
“He’s not answering?” Fee frowned. “Eazi, can you see him anywhere?”
“I can’t. The trees are too thick for me to get a good view. His comm unit would be simple enough to follow, but it’s been off since this morning, I gather to make sure the Balcoans couldn’t track him.”
“Lieutenant Crin.” Trayla had obviously reached out to Natta’s handler. “Have you heard from Lieutenant Grogan? We’ve been shot at in the city, and we just want to make sure he’s all right.”
Fee watched her face, saw her wince at whatever response she received.
“We’ll get to a safe place,” she said. “We were heading for a boutique, and we’re nearly there anyway, so we’ll go inside.” She gave the shop’s name and then breathed out a sigh as they climbed the steps up to the frosted silver door.
“She’s freaking out?” Fee guessed.
“Panic stations.” Trayla made another face and then pushed the door open.
Inside, the strange music Fiona associated with the Balcoans was playing. It was rhythmic in the sense that water falling into a pool was rhythmic, with no seeming intentional melody. She didn’t mind it, and it was always played very softly.
There was a faint perfume in the air, and a hush about the space, some of which was down to the thick carpet on the floor.
A woman glided out from a side door as they stood, gathering themselves, and dipped her head. “Can I help you?”
“We’re looking for dresses for an event,” Trayla said, smoothly. “Is it all right if we browse?”
“Of course, ring the chime hanging over the counter if you need me.” The woman stepped back, and closed the door behind her.
Fee checked the time, guessed she was taking time off for lunch.
“We’re not actually going to shop, are we?” she asked.
