The Cathari Treasure (Cameron Kincaid) by Daniel Arthur Smith

their destination, maybe because of the wine, perhaps
both.  He eased back in his chair and lifted his glass.  When
Glenda’s eyes met their table again, Cameron tilted his glass toward her, and
she responded with a smile.
    When Glenda finished the song
the room applauded again and she excused herself from the stage.  She
stepped over to the musicians, said something, and then joined the three at the
table.  Marie stood and the two embraced tightly.
    “Mon ami, tant de temps,” said
Glenda.  The two traded kisses on each cheek.
    “It has been too long,” said Marie,
holding Glenda close to her.
    When the two let go, they
stepped far enough away from each other to trade an inspection.  “Si
belle,” said Glenda.
    “Et vous,” said Marie.  She
gestured toward the table, “Glenda, you remember Nicole.”
    “Of course, what a lovely woman
you have become.”
    “Merci,” said Nicole.
    “And this is Mister Kincaid.”
    Cameron stood and held out his
hand.  Glenda placed her hand on his.
    “How do you do Monsieur?”
    “I’m well, thank you.  Your
singing is lovely.”
    “Merci, I am glad you enjoyed
it.”
    Glenda’s brow furrowed, very
slightly, subtly.  “Mister Kincaid, are you a good man?”
    “Excuse me?” asked Cameron,
unsure what Glenda meant.
    “She is asking if you are one of
us,” Marie said to Cameron, and then turned back to Glenda, “No, he is
not.  But he has gone out of his way to help us.”
    Glenda’s face lost expression.
    “He can be trusted,” said
Nicole.  With that, the smile returned to Glenda’s face and she gestured
Cameron to return to his seat.
    “After you,” said Cameron.
    All were seated, Glenda taking
the seat between Marie and Cameron.
    “I am sorry Mister
Kincaid.  It seems I, we all, owe you a debt.  In these times it is
hard to know who to trust.”
    “I understand,” said Cameron.
    Glenda placed her hand on
Cameron’s and gazed into his eyes.
    “Glenda and I grew up together,”
said Marie.
    “Really,” said Cameron.
    “Yes,” said Glenda, “hard to
believe that so many years have passed.”  She looked across the table at
Nicole, “The Perfect will be glad to see you.”
    “Is she near?” asked Marie.
    “She is not.  The Rex Mundi
has been close, too close.  It was not safe for her here any longer. 
I know you have had some trials of your own, but it is not safe for you
either.”  Glenda raised her head and scanned the room.  “They watch
us even now.”
    Cameron faced the length of the
room from his side of the table.  He could see two men in leather jackets
at the bar, conversing amongst themselves, and stealing glances between Glenda
and the table.  Under the mural, a man and a woman shared an iced bottle
of champagne from a bucket next to their table.  They too traded glances
at the table.  He had not thought about anyone in the club being an
assassin before Glenda said they were being watched.  Now every patron
looked suspect.
    “Who is it?” asked Cameron.
    “Any of them, all of them. 
Hard to know,” said Glenda.
    As Glenda and Marie talked
amongst themselves, Cameron continued to size up the patrons.  When his
eyes got back to the large man at the door, three men entered the club. 
The three men were young, their hair close to their scalps and all were leather
clad.  The leather jackets were not out of the ordinary, many of the men
Cameron had seen on the streets of Montreal as well as a few here in La Sirène
Bleue sported them.  Dark leather jackets were always in fashion in
northern cities.  Something about these three men stood out to Cameron,
made them different than the others around them.  Their grooming, trained
physique, the way they postured at the door, three together, not one with his
back to the room.  These men were military, that Cameron was sure
of.  Two of the three conversed with the doorman, while the third, the
tallest of the three, scanned the room, ultimately locking eyes