Chapter ThirteenBefore calling, I Googled Bayat Alexandre. An arts-and-culture magazine photo revealed him as the muscular man sitting with Cholla at the Tropics. Leaving a VM, I headed to the airport.
Seated outside Departures, I sipped coffee and watched Wiki-Wiki shuttle buses pass every few minutes. The air promised rain and dense clouds enshrouded hills in the distance. I was missing home and I hadn't even boarded the plane.
Elvis a-hunk-a-hunk'd a call.
Bayat Alexandre sounded rather gallant and had a slight South-African accent. Unfortunately, he had nothing of note re James-Henri or the local art scene to impart. Was it that he truly had nothing of worth to share? Or that pretty Ms. Poniard had charmed him into silence?
A text to Rey and Linda requested they investigate him tho
