"Evidence of Violet" continues...

(The following episodes follow the one in the post below it where the story first began)
Chapter One continues....

JOSEPHINA

They embraced in the doorway. She was in a long and well-wrinkled white cotton nightgown and she smelled like a woman just waking up. Any smell of Josephina never failed to arouse him. But even as his hands slid down her back and fanned out over her hips she was onto him.
"What is it now?" she asked, nuzzling her sleepy-eyed face beneath his chin. He lost himself in her thick dark hair wishing things could just be simple for awhile. And in his long sigh, he whispered out these words.
"Balthazaar is alive. And maybe Violet too." He tightened his grip around her, expecting her to faint. She didn't. Just some several abrupt sobs making her face wet against his neck and her fingernails digging into his shoulders. And then she pulled away.

The wooden tabletop was embellished with colorful burnt out hardened wax puddles of by-gone candles. They seemed a subtle history of evenings he had spent there with her, drinking wine and whispering. He sat and looked at her. She had her back to him, cracking eggs into a bowl. Whipping them. Pouring them into a black iron skillet. He slid her gown off her ample body, in his mind. Funny how such thoughts can erupt like that.
"How can you say such a thing?" she said, turning to look at him. He pulled the papers from his pocket.
"I got a letter. It is from Balthazaar." And this is where she fainted. By the stove.

She was only out a few seconds. By the time he jumped to grab her there on the floor, she was coming around. He helped her up and to a chair.
"Its true Josephina," he said, kneeling in front of her and trying to heal her pain -filled face somehow with his hands.
"Don't leave me now." she said.
"Read the letter, Josephina. Pack your bags. I will finish the souffle. "

THE DEPARTURE

They were on the road by noon. They would make it up the mountains if they drove through the night. They would spend some time there and rest. Get some food. Fuck. Sleep. Get up in the morning and mark our course out on the map. Move efficiently south through each little town and harbor. It is an art to pull into a town and gather information without arousing suspicion. One cannot go about holding up photos. Have you seen this man? This woman? You are seen as a hunter of people. And there are many in the south who are in hiding. The news of your inquiries will precede you into the next town and the next. You will get nowhere. He and Josephina would travel as tourists. Lovers on a holiday who have stolen away from some impossible reality back north. In essence, just two more people on the lam and hiding. Seen as such, they could perhaps find people here and there who would take them into their confidence. Over tequila perhaps a story slips out. Josephina is adept at this. Loosening the tongues of men so as to find out what she wants to know without asking the question.

THE WAY THINGS WENT DOWN

It was unusual. The way Josephina and Ricardo had hooked up back some time ago. He and Balthazaar had been like brothers since childhood. They were born on the same day of the month of the same year. But Riccardo was seven years was 7 years his elder. And now here they were. Riccardo, with a woman some 10 years older than he, and Balthazaar with her daughter. Or at least he was, until something went wrong and they are lost now from one another.

It was to have been a simple deal. Riccardo had made the arrangements. Balthazaar and Violet would make the exchange. A few precious stones he was middling up out of Africa to a collector whose name Riccardo dare not say aloud. Enough American dollars for all of them to live quite easily for some time. The deal was to go down on a charter boat amidst partying and pleasure fishing. Violet, while young, was as alluring as her mother. And she is a seamstress, as well. It would be relatively easy for her to conceal the stones in the hems of her clothing. And Balthazaar was renowned for his calm collected demeanor. He was at his best when backed against the wall.

So what went wrong? It's all Riccardo thought about as they drove southeast and into the night. Josephina curled up on the back seat and fell asleep. He headed the car up into the mountains. They should at least make La Coma by dawn, if the roads were not too rough. They might spend a day or two there poking around.