The Blonde and the Bootlegger: A Percy Jackson story

Central Park

Piper P.O.V

Though Atlas was dead, you would have been a fool to think that the worst was over.
Our first priority was to get out of Quebec as quickly as possible. I didn't look forward to spending another day hopping from train to train, especially since I hadn't yet gotten over my cold, but the sooner we were back in New York, the better.
There were still several hours to go until our train departed. Jason, Annabeth, and I sat in a cafe while Percy talked to Nico Di Angelo over a payphone. Annabeth sat sipping her tea, looking very cool and composed for a girl whose lover had just killed a man. I got the impression that she was the type of always put "a good face" on things and never gave it away to the world that anything was wrong. In her white frock and cloche, she sat there as regally as a queen.

A pin shaped like an owl was pinned to the yoke of her frock.

"Do you think the Titans know that Percy and Jason are in Quebec?" she asked me.
Her quick intelligence had picked up that we had accompanied our men here on Olympian business. The fact that we had shared worries and common enemies gave us a sense of kinship.
"I would imagine so," I replied, "If Atlas was able to track us."
"I wonder if it would be wise for them to return to New York. If the Titans know that Percy and Jason are in Quebec, then they'd be able to figure out that one of them might be behind his murder," Annabeth took a sip of her tea and sighed, "Clarion Ladies Academy didn't prepare me for all this."
A/N "They don't exactly cover this subject in boarding school."

I chuckled a little.
The waiter brought over a try containing slices of toasted bread, some mustard, some pickles, and a type of meat spread.