Think, Sydney, think! She hated what this thing with Karen and Nigel was reducing her to. Having cancelled her own plans for her last two weeks of freedom before college started up, she was seriously questioning her sanity, let alone Nigel's. A day later and here she was, sipping on an iced tea in a quaint little seaside shanty, dressed like one of the locals in an ankle length wrap around sarong of various colours, and a sexy matching halter top. Suffice it to say she couldn’t just knock on the door and walk in. No, she needed a rock solid reason for crashing their little party, but what? It had to be something that Nigel would readily believe, something realistic, and her eyes suddenly widened with delight… what she needed was a relic hunt!
If there was anything Nigel couldn’t resist anymore, it was the thrill of the hunt. He expected to accompany her now, unlike in the beginning, where she had to almost always drag him kicking and screaming. Actually, tying him up and stuffing him in her carry on would have been a lot easier in some of those instances. Unfortunately, there was none to be had here. Pondering this for a moment, and only a moment, Sydney came to her good senses before going officially crazy and just making one up.
Catalina was a charming place, and this was Sydney’s first trip to the Island. Avalon was only the first stop of many here, and she would definitely have to check out the other must see sites before leaving. The Island had a rich history filled with smugglers, big bands and movie sets… She tapped her fingernails, one, two, three, and four in staccato rhythm against the table again and again, thinking. It had to be within the realm of probability. The smuggling angle sounded most favourable to her, with all the excitement and romance attached to it, and she put together a killer plan.
Going over it one more time for accuracy, she gradually came up with a suitable idea that would likely fool Nigel long enough to quash what ever he had going on with Karen, and allow her a chance to tell him she’d been wrong. Well, okay, maybe not go that far, but certainly a nonchalant invitation to dinner would at least be accepted, then they could finally talk. She pondered her mock-up relic hunt from all angles and considered all its factors. Nigel would need research material, facts and figures and it had better look genuine. He was a sharp cookie, and not easy to put one over on in this area. The next hour of her time was well spent ferreting out all the things she would need to execute her perfect plan.
What if one of the skippers of an 1820’s merchant ship, fed up to his eye balls with the staggering tariffs being charged by the local Mexican government at the time, decided to pull into one of the secluded coves and stash it, or better yet, disguise it first? He would have to be carrying something of great value, as the tariffs tended to be marked up to almost one hundred percent of the actual value of your hold. Gold bullion was a suitable choice. She casually surveyed her surroundings, feeling pretty good with the idea she’d come up with so far. Glancing at her watch she sighed…okay, it’s only eight thirty in the morning. It was doubtful Nigel had even attempted to pull his lazy carcass out of the sack yet, and scowled at the thought he might even have company…
Digging around her purse she removed her cell phone and placed another call. "Hi, would you please patch me through to a Mister Nigel Bailey’s room? Thank you."
Nigel was about to meet the very fictional Mister Cairo, gold smuggler extraordinare, and come face to face with all of his friends....
Thanks to Jon Anderson & Vangelis for the motivational title of this chapter.
From their song, The Friends of Mister Cairo.
Go to Part Five.