Dragons Wild

Until just now when she vocalized it, she hadn’t realized how discontented she was with that situation.

Twenty-three

Griffen had a new resolve as he sauntered down the Moonwalk. He had been sitting around bars and card games too long. It was time for him to get back in shape. Well, get into shape, as he had never been that athletically inclined.

Valerie had always been the fitness freak of the family and, since moving to New Orleans, had taken to getting up mornings to jog along the Moonwalk before the midday heat set in. The other day, however, she had mentioned that she had discovered that someone was teaching a fencing class upstairs at Yo Mama’s Bar and Grill on various weekdays. Since the upstairs was only open to the public Thursday through Saturday nights, the owner was letting them use the space for free.

That alone had caught Griffen’s attention, as he had done a bit of fencing with a local club while he was at school. He had a wry picture in his mind of him and the George, or at least him versus a knight in full armor, going sword to sword. Of course, nothing like that would happen in real life, even as odd as his “real” life was.

What really piqued his interest, though, was when she mentioned the teacher’s name was Maestro. Griffen was pretty sure it was the same guy that Bone had introduced him to the night he first met Fox Lisa. After all, how many people in the Quarter could there be that went by the name of Maestro.

Joining his class would accomplish two things. First, it would give Griffen some much needed exercise, and second, it would give him a chance to learn a little more about Maestro.

Of course, he would have to get in shape first. (Guys getting in shape before joining an exercise class was not unlike the thing women do when they clean up before the maid comes.) Maybe a bit of power walking and light jogging to increase his stamina and lung capacity.

That was enough to set him up for today’s errand…a shopping trip through the Riverwalk, the small shopping center along the river just outside the Quarter. After all, if he was going to start exercising, he would need some athletic shoes…and maybe a warm-up outfit or two.

It was late morning, earlier than he usually was out and about, but late enough for there to be a fair amount of activity along the Moonwalk. The street musicians were out in force, working the inevitable crowds of tourists who were getting an early start on their day’s itinerary. The breeze off the river was doing a nice job of holding the ovenlike heat of midday at bay, and a light, high cloud cover kept the sun from being blinding. All in all, a beautiful day, and Griffen enjoyed the relaxed ambiance as he made his leisurely way along.

His reverie was interrupted when his cell phone rang. The caller ID showed an unknown caller, but that wasn’t unusual. Since passing his phone number to Gris-gris, he had gotten several calls from strangers, often setting meetings to ask about joining some satellite card game to his network.

Flipping the phone open, he held it to his ear while casually looking around.

“Griffen,” he said into the receiver.

“Mr. McCandles,” a male voice said. “I think it’s time we talked. I’d like to clear the air between us.”

“And you are…?”

“This is Jason Stoner. I believe you’ve heard of me.”

It took a moment for the name to register. Stoner. The man with Homeland Security that was supposed to be hunting for Griffen.

“So talk,” Griffen said. “You have my undivided attention.”

“I was thinking more of a face-to-face sit-down,” Stoner said.

Griffen thought for a moment. He really didn’t want to be alone with this man. Still, his curiosity was piqued.

“That might take a while to arrange,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to meet somewhere in public.”

“My thoughts precisely,” Stoner said. “How about that bench just ahead of you…say, in two minutes?”

Startled, Griffen looked around, trying to see in all directions at once. There didn’t seem to be anyone in the crowd paying particular attention to him, but it was obvious he was being watched.

“How will I know you?” he said, stalling for time.

There was no answer. Glancing at his phone, Griffen realized Stoner had broken the connection.

Replacing the cell phone on his hip, he stared at the indicated bench, looked around again, then slowly walked over to it and opted to stand rather than sit.

Pedestrians continued to stream by in groups of two to six, with an occasional jogger mixed in for variety. Nothing there that seemed particularly threatening or ominous.

There were people leaning on the railing watching the river traffic, a couple of tired looking women herding a group of shrieking children from a day-care center, and a trio of sailors in uniform taking pictures of each other, but no one seemed to be paying any attention to Griffen.