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Chapter 22
Acouple of hours later, Nayome found herself standing at the edge of the park boundary on 96th and Central Park West. Had she really walked for—checking her watch—two hours and ended up at the park? Her feet throbbed in response to that thought.
Spotting the trademark yellow and blue umbrella indicating a hot dog cart, Nayome pulled a few crumpled bills out of her wallet and made her way over to the short line. Her stomach grumbled audibly when she caught the scent wafting off the grill. Her stomach was screaming at her for walking so long on an empty stomach.
“What’ll it be, doll?”
“One jumbo dog, please.”
“Comin right up!”
Nayome watched the stocky older gentleman manning the stand as he grilled up a few dogs for the waiting crowd, toasting the buns before he began doling them out. He was quick and efficient, clearly having been at this a while. Chatting up tourists as he worked, they were all charmed by his heavy New York accent and open, friendly demeanor. A few minutes later, Nayome was topping her hot dog full of sauerkraut, caramelized onions, and Dijon, and headed into the park. Clutching a fistful of napkins around her lunch, she ate as she walked, trying not to spill down the front of her blouse.
Nothing beat a New York style hot dog when you were hungry. Good comfort food too, Nayome thought, as her mind was still spinning from the events of this morning.
Nayome found herself meandering down the same path she had come up the day before. Spotting the small pond ahead, she grabbed an open spot on a bench not far from the bank of the pond and polished off the rest of her hot dog.
Taking stock of her situation, Nayome did a quick review of the facts. She found it helped calm her racing heart to review everything, trying to look at it all from an outside perspective and attempt to organize her swirling thoughts into some semblance of a plan.
She had called a number of times since she had left the office, but still no answer from Bal. With everything going on right now, she was worried that might mean something had happened in Scotland. Maybe they hadn’t cleaned up as well as they thought they had. Sighing, Nayome gazed out at the pond, a light breeze disrupting the surface of the water.Even if something happened in Scotland, there is nothing I can do about it now.
After reflecting, Nayome felt confident that she hadn’t given anything away in the meeting this morning. But that agenthadlooked suspicious at the end. And they had the regenerative data on that fungus sample. But there was no reason for anyone to think she was involved past being a regular old scientist who stumbled into something by chance. So, she shouldn’t be in any danger. She didn’t even understand what kind of danger shecouldbe in, but all this was so unprecedented, better to err on the side of caution.
So…what now?Nayome thought, frustrated she was so cut-off, and feeling alone in this mess. Bal would contact her when he could, she supposed.
Running a frustrated hand through her hair, Nayome wrapped it up on a top knot to keep it from blowing in her face with the breeze.
She would just lie low, and hope she didn’t hear anything else from Agent Crawford. She hated feeling so helpless, but at this point, the best course of action was clearlynoaction. Anything else she did would just raise suspicion, either from the FBI or from Bal’s people.But where the hell is Bal? Why isn’t he answering his god damn phone?
Closing her eyes and leaning back against the park bench, Nayome felt like she was caught in the middle of a movie, struggling to admit even to herself that this was all real.
Suddenly exhausted, she picked herself up and started heading to the closest underground entrance. She would go home, take a nap, and hopefully not wake up until tomorrow morning. The more sleep, the more mental distance she could put between herself and being questioned by the FBI this morning. Maybe tomorrow would feel like a regular day, and she could slowly start settling back into a routine. All this drama could not be good for her health.
Tentative plan in place, Nayome felt like her mind was wading through water as she waited for the subway that would take her home, her thoughts coming slow and sluggish. Clutching her necklace again, she was glad she had thought to put it on yesterday. It made her feel slightly less alone when she focused on the slight weight of it, focused on something that had been passed down to her. Even if it was from a mother she had never, would never know, it reminded her that someone had been thinking of her, had cared for her.
* * *
As Nayome unlocked her condo door, she felt like a zombie, just barely able to go through the motions required to function. The subway had been delayed and it had taken her an extra forty minutes to get home on what was supposed to be a twenty minute trip. Typical, but she hadn’t had much patience for it today.
If she had been in her right mind, she may have wondered why she didn’t have to flip her lights on, a warm glow already lighting up her small, open concept layout from the overhead pot lights in the kitchen. As she hung up her purse and kicked off her shoes, Nayome rounded the corner of her small entrance way and stopped dead.
Her brain was too fried to muster up a scream, react, run, anything. She just stood there, blinking dumbly, mouth probably hanging open like a dead fish.
“Nayome, thank God.” Bal stood there, looking just as handsome, if not more so, than she remembered. He looked completely out of place in her small, city condo, skyscrapers visible out the window behind him. “Nayome?” Bal took a hesitant step forward, looking concerned that she hadn’t said anything yet.
“How did you get in?” Nayome asked dumbly. Notwhere the hell have you been? Why didn’t you answer my calls? I needed you. I’m scared out of my wits.
“I…well…”
“How did you even find out where I live?” Nayome asked, her foggy head clearing as the shock of him being here wore off.
“Listen, I can explain everything—”
“Why didn’t you answer my calls?”
“Nayome, listen—”
“I’m getting really tired of this,” Nayome said. Her voice sounded dull, void of any emotion.
