SYDNEY

"Bradley, I need a few weeks off, personal business."

"Skinner, you just got a place on the floor. Is this really so important that you'd give all of it up? You're one of my best traders."

Max sat up straight in the curved back leather chair. He faced Bradley North without fear or show of nerves. He'd only been on North, Bingham and North's payroll for a few short months but in that time he'd made more money for the firm than some of the well-seasoned brokers had in the past five years.

'I love what I'm doing,  but I have a sort of debt to pay. It would be very difficult for me to explain and some of it may seem a bit odd to you. I can assure you it has nothing to do with anything illegal."

"Come on, Max. You know we've all walked a fine line when it comes to illegalities. If your morals were pristine then you'd never make it in the investments business. Go, take whatever time you need. Just make sure you come back. If I find out you've been cavorting with the enemy, I'll make your life hell, Maximillian."

"I have no doubt that you would. Rest assured, this is personal business and it has nothing to do with this firm or any other." Max stood and turned to leave.

"By the way..." Bradley stopped him. "I hope she's worth it."

Max smiled in his cocky way. "Sometimes your ability to perceive frightens even me....almost."

"I didn't think anything ever frightened you, Max."

"My point exactly." Max turned and left before Bradley North could respond. He had a quest and it was to find Mara and to bring her back to New York with him. Ever since the phone call to the station, he'd found himself distracted and in this business distractions could be deadly as far as one's career were concerned.

It was two PM when he entered the lobby of his apartment building. Saying goodbye to Morningside Heights and moving to a flat on the East side was a sure sign that he was headed in the right direction financially. No matter how much of a step back this break to search was he knew he could recover. He was Max Skinner, one arrogant motherfucker with the ability to put the screws to anyone to make a buck, anyone but her.

By seven PM he was getting off the Ben Franklin Parkway and headed into downtown Philly. He'd booked a room at the Four Seasons Hotel with every intent on spending the next day looking for Mara. Once he'd checked in he found his impatience to be more than a niggle so he got a cab and gave the driver the address where Mara lived, or where she lived while he was here. When the cab turned the corner off South Street onto her block he knew right away that she was gone. The plants in the window box were all but dead and the windows themselves were covered with newspapers from the inside, a sure sign that the flat was empty.

Now what? Go to the station and ask? A confrontation loomed with Perez by his reckoning and he could only imagine what he knew of Max's stay with Mara. Fear of the worst loomed. Could something have happened to her? Could she have been injured at work or even worse than that, killed? He shook the thought off with a shiver. No, he didn't feel that. It wasn't possible. He knew somehow that she was alive but he didn't know where to find her.

"Hey. I remember you. You're the man who stayed here for a few days."

Thank God for nosey neighbors. "Yes. That would be me. Tell me, do you know where Mara is?"

"Last I heard she went home, wherever that may be," the woman shrugged as she pushed her broom across the top step of her stoop.

"Australia?"

"I dunno, buddy. She had some kind of foreign accent. French or something like that. I guess that's where she went. I didn't pay much attention. I mind my own business, you know?"

"Yes, yes, of course," he replied but said the word "bollocks" under his breath. "Thank you for your help." Some lot of help she was. France? The woman probably couldn't find Europe on a map if the bleeding Eiffel Tower and Big Ben were plastered all over it, he thought.

Face it, Max had to suck it up and go to the fire station. If Perez wanted to be a little shit he could as long as he told Max where Mara was. Australia, but what part? Why did she leave? There were a hundred questions to be answered and only one person who was a sure shot to know.

As luck would have it, Perez wouldn't be on duty until seven AM the next morning. Max questioned everyone at Station 32 but not one would say anything to him. His best hope was the chief and although he was cordial he said it like it was.

"We're not permitted to give personal information out. You might try calling city hall to see if they have a forwarding address for her but it's not likely they'll give it to you either. Records are confidential."

"Just tell me one thing. Is she ok?" Max was exasperated at this point. "Did something happen to her to make her leave so abruptly?"

"I feel for ya, pal, but I can't say." The chief could see the distress in the man's eyes and he felt sorry for him, a bit anyway. "Listen. Mara's doing okay considering. Just leave it at that, will ya?"

"Thank you. Thank you for your time." Max felt as if he'd hit a wall and there was not way to turn. He was wondering if he'd be banging his head against it over and over again. All he could do was come back in the morning when Perez was on duty and ask him. As he left the chief's office and made his way through the hall to leave the station something caught his eye. There was a bulletin board there and it was posted thick with  job announcements and things for sale and the sort, but one thing stood out. A postcard with a picture of a koala bear on it and an Aussie flag in the corner of it. Could it be from her? He backed up and snagged it off the board, jamming it down into his pocket without reading it. His anticipation soared but he had to keep moving. Someone may have seen him and he opted to escape with it before he was stopped and questioned.

Once outside of the station he waited until he was down the block and around the corner before he dug it out. He flipped it over and sure enough her name was at the bottom.

G'day Mates,

It's good to be home but I miss you all. Perez, I promise to send you some more vegemite.

Cheers,

Mara

"No bloody return address. Fucking hell!" Max mumbled to himself. The card did have a postmark from Sydney but it was a month old. Not only was it a very large city but would she still be there?

"So you're back, huh, asshole." The sound of Perez's voice snapped Max around and he did his best to ditch the postcard back into his pocket.

"What makes you think I'm such an asshole, mate?"

"Because of what you did to her, that's what. Did you take that off the board at the station?" Perez nodded toward Max's pocket.

"As a matter of fact I did. I have to find her. I don't guess you'd understand but I really have to find her."

"Why, so you can break her heart again? Didn't you do enough?"

"I never meant to hurt her!" Max spat. "What do you know about Mara and me anyway?"

"I know she couldn't keep her mind on her fucking job after you left. I know things went to hell for her then...then she had the incident. It's all your fault, you know. Stress causes those things."

"Incident? What the hell are you talking about, Perez. Tell me!"

"Gimme the postcard!"

"No. Tell me what happened and I'll give it to you."

Perez's eyes narrowed. "If she wanted you to know she'd have told you herself."

"There's no way she could have told me. She didn't know where I was ..exactly."

"Yeah, cause you took her money and left, asshole."

"That's not it at all. I planned on coming back. There was something I had to do first but I did plan on coming back."

Perez studied the man. No matter how he felt five minutes ago there was something in his voice that spanked of the truth. The firefighter looked at his watch. He had more than twelve hours before his shift began, one maybe two beers would be okay. He nudged his head toward a pub on the corner. "Buy me a drink. We'll talk."

Max nodded in agreement and the pair went into the corner bar. It was a typical neighborhood type place with a pool table, shuffleboard and a big jar of something pickled sitting out, not the type of place Max would normally frequent at this juncture. Somewhere he thought he may have spent some time in a place like this but not now. It smelled of stale cigarettes and the lighting was dim. Once inside it was hard to tell there was still daylight outside. Max imagined it was to distract the clientele from the amount of time they'd spent in there. One bloke at the end of the bar looked as if he'd been there since the night before and he barely looked away from his glass as the two men sat down beside him.

"Two boilermakers," Perez ordered "He's buying."

Max obliged, placing a few bills on the bar. "Your turn, Perez. Fill me in."

The firefighter lit a Camel and set it in an ashtray. He downed his shot, took a sip of his beer and glared at Max."

"I should beat the shit out of you but I don't figure that's what Mara would want. She started having these spells, seizures. They ended her career."

"So, without her job, she lost her visa?"

"You got it, Einstein."

"Bloody hell. Do you know where I could find her? I need to make this right."

Perez shook his head. "Last I heard she was in Sydney. She said she was going to buy some land north of there, some kind of farm or something. Promised she'd send the address once she was settled but I haven't gotten anything from her yet. You know what, she was a great partner, a good friend. I really miss her."

"I've got to go there."

"You mean to Australia?"

"Yes. North of Sydney, you say? I wish we could narrow it down some."

"Wouldja let me know? Let me know if she's okay. I'll give you my home number and we can stay in touch."

"Under one condition."

"What's that?"

"If she contacts you, you'll tell me where she is at once."

Perez raised his beer glass to Max. "Deal. You're still an asshole, you know."

Max touched his glass to Perez's and took a swallow. He contorted his face at the taste of the sweet Pennsylvania brew. "That's bloody awful." He set the glass down and got up to leave. "I'll see what I can do to rectify the obnoxious title, Perez. Keep in touch."

"See ya, asshole."

Max Skinner booked the first flight he could get. Philly to Chicago, Chicago to Los Angeles and then on to Sydney from there. He had no idea where he'd start once he got to Australia. He was just winging it.

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