Forever Knight
For Better Or Worse
"WOMEN!" Lucien LaCroix practically shouted at his vampire son as he paced the den of the Knight house. Lucien had come there to discuss the plans for his upcoming wedding to Robyn Parker.
"What has Robyn done this time?" Nick Knight asked.
"What makes you think I was talking about Robyn?" His master asked.
"Something in the tone of your voice told me that you were not talking about women in general, and since the only woman in particular that could get under your skin that way has to be my esteemed mother in law ... Ergo ... It has to be Robyn."
"She has changed the plans again for the … I don't know how many times. If she doesn't make up her alleged mind soon, there isn't going to be a wedding!" He paced the den nervously. "I will NOT tolerate her uncertainty in this matter!" He emphasized his remarks by pounding his fist into his palm. In a mortal, the force of the blow might have shattered bones. "The wedding is in a little over three months. This is not the time to be making radical changes."
"First, she wanted a simple ceremony here at your house. Just the family and a few friends. You and Atonia as Best Man and Matron of Honor. That was the perfect scenario as far as I was concerned.
Then she said she wanted to be married at the Maison. She wanted three bridesmaids and groomsmen. She even wanted both Atonia and Sheryl as Matrons of Honor and Nattie as flowergirl and Joseph and Donald as ringbearers. I had no problem with that, either ... And I was still in agreement when she added most of the Community to the guest list as well.
Now she wants to be married at Griffith Observatory. If it were up to her, half the population of Greater Los Angeles would be in the wedding party and the other half would be the guests. The list is so long now that we might as well take out a full page ad in the Times to be certain that everybody gets their invitation." He threw up his arms in defeat. "Women! If I live another two millennia I will never understand them."
**********
"MEN!" Robyn Parker fumed to her daughter as she stormed into the office of Toni's studio, Artistic Imaginations.
"And what has Lucien LaCroix done this time to get you this upset?" Toni Knight asked her mother. She indicated a chair. Toni could almost see the smoke coming out of Robyn's ears.
"Lucien! How did you know it was Lucien I was talking about?" She ignored the chair and paced the area in front of Toni's desk.
"Who else?"
"He is the most stubborn … muleheaded … narrow minded … egotistical … E - E - E - U - G - H !" She caught herself just as her eyes began to fleck yellow. "All I want is a decent wedding with all of our friends present. Is that asking too much? He started out in agreement with me, but now, very time I suggest any changes, he erupts like Mt. Ste. Helens. I mean, I only made a casual remark that we could possibly have the ceremony at Griffith Park Observatory. That has special meaning for us. That IS where he proposed, after all. I thought he'd be happy about that, but when I mentioned it, he nearly broke a blood vessel …and it was one of mine. I've rarely seen him that pissed off. The closer we get to the wedding day, the worse he gets."
"I thought you wanted to get married here or at the Maison?"
"I did at first, but none of the plans were definite as far as I was concerned. To hear Lucien scream and holler though, you'd think they were carved in stone and brought down from the mountain by Moses.
While I appreciate your offer to let us use your house, it is much too small and I don't want to inconvenience you any more than I already have. I mean you are giving the bridal shower, although lord knows, I don't need one. I have everything I need. And you are making the wedding dresses. What with your work here at the studio and Nick and the children, you have your hands full enough as it is."
"All I'm doing is making the drawings. Kaiya has the job of translating my sketches into cloth and ribbons and lace. She's doing all the work. As for the shower, a woman can never have enough frilly sexy things for her man. Besides, if they can have a bachelor party, we can have a bridal shower." She hugged her mother tightly. "You deserve all the pampering you can get. 'Nuff said."
"I can understand that. But as far as the Maison goes, well, as I said before, Griffith Park holds special meaning for us. At least it does for me. And I thought it did for him, too." She folded her arms across her chest and let out a long sigh. "Men! If I live to be a million, I'll never understand them."
**********
"I think I know what part of her problem is." Nick replied. "From what Toni tells me, Robyn and Jack Parker eloped to Kentucky and were married by a Justice of the Peace. Two clerks from the courtroom next door were the witnesses. It took all of about twenty minutes. For all the splendor and ceremony connected with it, they might as well have been taking out a fishing license. There was no reception to speak of, and their honeymoon was an overnight trip to Cedar Point. And that didn't happen until several weeks later."
**********
Florence Kentucky 1963
"I don't know about this." Nineteen year old Robyn Scott said. She smoothed the skirt of her Sunday dress and brushed aside a stray curl that had escaped from her headband. "Are you sure we're doing the right thing?"
"You do love me, don't you?" Twenty year old Jack Parker replied. He swallowed hard and adjusted the tie on his suit. The only one he had.
"You know I do. I've loved you since the third grade."
"And I love you, too."
"And you did propose, didn't you?" She held out her left hand to display the ring, a 14 carat gold plated circle bearing a genuine Austrian crystal 'diamond' that he had bought at Sears Roebuck's. He had paid twenty dollars for it. Nearly a weeks pay from the Esso station.
"Yeah. I did. And you accepted. That means we have every right to get married. But you always said you wanted a big wedding, and instead of that, we're here at the court house in Florence."
"I still would like a big wedding, but I am enough of a realist to know that will never happen. My dad won't spring for a large wedding. He doesn't even want us to get married in the first place. He thinks you're a bum just because you haven't been able to find decent work. He doesn't think pumping gas for 75 cents an hour is enough to support a family. I mean you can't help it if you can't get a good paying job. It's not your fault you flunked the finals and didn't get your diploma. Not everyone can get good grades. Maybe after we're married, you can take some classes at one of the trade schools and get your GED. I'll help with the expenses until then. I do have a good job at Woolworth's up in Columbus and I'll be getting a raise the first of next year. Mr. Hines says there might even be a promotion to lead salesclerk in the near future."
"You really think your dad will come around?"
"Just wait until after we're married for a while and he gets to really know you. He'll change his mind. You'll see. Who knows, maybe we can have a big blow out for our twenty fifth anniversary."
He took her hand and led her up the courthouse steps. "Come on, honey. Justice Perkins doesn't have all day."
"I know. I just wish some of our friends could be here with us to celebrate."
"Me, too, but the fewer people that know about this the better. If your old man found out, he'd be down here in a flash to break it up. Then he'd ship you off to his sister's in Iowa faster than you could think about it. He'd probably arrest me and throw me in jail, too. We're both still minors, after all."
**********
"Maybe that's why she's going so overboard with this. Just be a little patient with her. Robyn has a good head on her shoulders. I'm sure the two of you will reach some sort of a happy medium." Nick put his hands on his father's shoulders.
"I never thought about that." Lucien agreed. "You're right. Her first wedding wasn't very impressive. But then, neither was her marriage to that … that … scumbag. At least not the way Atonia and Sheryl tell it.
Maybe I am being a bit harsh on her. I shall endeavor to be more agreeable. I want this day to be as special for her as it is for me. After all, I love this woman with all my heart and whatever soul I might possess. I fully intend to spend the rest of eternity with her. I want the beginning of our life together to be a thoroughly memorable occasion for both of us. From now on, whatever she wants, I will agree to. I will spare no expense to make this day exactly as she's always dreamed it would be. If she wants to be married in Griffith Park, then she will get Griffith Park. If she the entire population of the United States and Canada west of the Continental Divide there, then that's who will be present. It's not like I can't afford it. I'll contact the Observatory Curator and make the arrangements."
"That may just do the trick. Now. Will you PLEASE stay in one place! You're wearing a track in the carpet."
"I seem to recall there was someone else who was just a tad anxious about his impending nuptials." He stared at his son. "I am remembering correctly, aren't I, Nicholas?"
"Guilty as charged." Nick smiled as he remembered his marriage to Toni. On more than one occasion, she, or he, or both of them, had been on the verge of calling everything off. "You better be sure to tell her as soon as possible."
"Why should I do that? I think I'll let it be a surprise."
**********
"You know maybe you're right. Maybe things are getting out of hand." Robyn conceded. "I mean, I keep forgetting he's almost two thousand years old. He was raised in an era when things like marriages and such were arranged by a third party. A matchmaker, if you will. In the some cases, the bride and groom literally didn't know each other, and in many instances, the parties didn't even meet until the day of the actual wedding. Love had little or nothing to do with it. It was a way to gain or hold power or lands through advantageous unions. In addition, women had almost no say in anything. It was all done according to a prescribed ritual. Very little deviation was tolerated.
It still is that way in some places even today. It wasn't until the last century or two that people were able to choose who they wanted to marry. It must be a real culture shock for him to have to listen to me babble on and on about what I want and don't want.
I have a feeling that if it were up to him, he'd be just as happy to slip down to Tijuana some weekend and find an Alcalde. Then too, he has said many times that vampires aren't necessarily bound by mortal values, so maybe we should just live together as man and wife without any kind of a ceremony whatsoever. I just don't know, Toni."
"Mom. This is your life, too. You'll be spending a long time with him. You have a right to live it the way you want to, not the way somebody else wants you to live it. If I remember, you had too much of that when you were married to Pond Scum. You didn't have to take it from him, and you don't have to take it from Lucien. This is not ancient Rome. Or the '60's. If you want a big wedding, then you should have a big wedding. You have a say in what's happening. Don't forget that."
"You're right, Toni. Jack did order me around a lot. I took it from him because I thought I had to. I know I don't have to take it from Lucien. At least my brain knows that. My heart, however, doesn't. I love Lucien with everything I've got. I want to spend the rest of eternity with him. I want to make this impressive for both of us. I just don't know how."
Toni put her arms around her mother. "I know you and Lucien. You'll work it out. I've seen your love develop from day one. If ever there were two people who belonged together, it's the two of you. Give him time to adjust. After all, he's been single since 79 AD.
Do you remember how Nick waffled before our wedding? There was no doubt he loved me, but getting things together was like pulling teeth with a pair of salad tongs … and without anesthetic."
"Do I? I thought we were going have to hog tie and drag the both of you kicking and screaming to the altar. Either that, or slap the beejeebers out of you. Both of you."
"Something tells me the son takes after the father."
"Then you don't think I'm making mountains out of molehills?"
"Well, maybe not mountains, but you do have quite a few molehills that need to be leveled out. For instance, you might consider trimming the guest list a bit. Like about in half, or maybe even in a quarter. And also some of the extraneous things have to go too. Do you really need doves and balloons released after the ceremony? And isn't a full live orchestra a bit much for the reception? A DJ or a small combo would do just as well. I don't think anybody would feel cheated if you didn't have a white satin runner to the altar or rose petals strewn in your path."
"You're right, Toni. Maybe I am going a bit overboard. If he wants a simple ceremony and reception at the Maison, then the Maison it will be. I'll call Clarissa tomorrow evening. Do me a favor. Don't say anything to Nick or Lucien. I want it be a surprise."
**********
He looked up from the newspaper. It was just a small notice of their engagement tucked into the bottom of the vital statistics pages. He wouldn't even be bothered reading the Los Angeles Times if one of the other customers from the bar hadn't pointed it out to him. Pete had just returned from a trip to LA to see an exhibition game between the Jackets and the Ducks. He brought the paper with him and showed it to Jack at the first possible opportunity.
"Damn!" He banged his fist on the grimy table. Must they torture him so? First his daughter. Now his wife. Because of him, he had missed his daughter's wedding. Both his daughters. He conveniently 'forgot' that Sheryl was married sixteen years before anyone had even heard of Lucien LaCroix. It was also inconsequential that he was serving a five year sentence for grand theft auto and driving without a license at the time of his oldest daughter's wedding.
Now he was going to marry his wife. Jack Parker balled the paper and threw it into the trash. <Not if I can do anything about it. > He called a friend of his that owed him some favors. Maybe he could get him an airline ticket to Los Angeles.
**********
Lucien LaCroix stood before the display case. There, a small statue was labeled 'Unidentified household god belonging to the gladiator Marcus Flavenus'.
"They are wrong about that." Lucien said to Robyn. The Museum of Natural History had a display of artifacts recently excavated from Pompeii, and he had brought Robyn to show her some of the things from his heritage.
"You mean that's not a household god?" Robyn asked.
"Oh, it's a household god, all right. But it did not belong to Marcus Flavenus. It belonged to me. That's the statue of Orpesius Chelsis Ganterivius, an ancestor of mine. He was killed in the battle of Beneventum at the age of twenty. According to the tale my grandmother told, this statue is the repository of his spirit. He had been looking after the affairs of the family for almost three hundred years when she gave the statue to me for my eighteenth birthday. He was my favorite god. I carried him into battle on many occasions. I was always victorious. I thought it had been lost after I … After the eruption."
"But how did he get to Marcus Flavenus's house?"
"Divia."
"Divia?"
"She stole it, and she must have taken it to Flavenus's house. It was right down the Via Roma from ours, and she, like so many other impressionable young girls, thought he was … in today's language … a hunk. She must have thought it would be safe with him."
"If that had been one of my kids, they wouldn't have sat down for at least a week."
"She didn't. At least not comfortably."
**********
Pompeii 78 AD
"Tell me again, Divia. What did you do with the statue?" Lucius Gaius Pletano asked his daughter for the tenth time.
"What statue?" Fourteen year old Divia replied for the tenth time.
"You know full well what statue. The statue of Orpesius. He has sat on the altar in my chambers for the last twenty years whenever I am home. When I am on the road, he is never out of my possession. He is our family's protector. And now he is missing."
"And you think I took him?" Innocence fairly dripped from her speech, but it didn't quite show in her eyes. "Why is it that every time something bad happens, it is automatically assumed that I am guilty."
"Because you usually … are guilty. I will ask you only once. Did you take the god?"
"This is a fine time to ask that, isn't it? It is, after all, a little after the fact." She carefully adjusted her tunic. Her back showed through the rips, the angry red welts from the lash in stark contrast with her milky skin.
Lucius stared intently at the floor. In a sense, she was right. There was no concrete evidence that she had taken the household god, but there was considerable circumstantial evidence of her guilt.
He had punished her earlier that day for meeting in the garden with Josephus, the son of one of her slave teachers. He knew that they were more than platonically involved, and he had warned them that there would be dire consequences for both of them if they continued seeing each other. It was bad enough that he was the son of a slave, but he was a Christian as well. That was totally unacceptable to him, even for a dalliance. His legion had the primary responsibility for persecuting these rebels and heretics. It would not bode well for him if his daughter were involved with one of them. He would have to see that the episode did not repeat itself. A friend of his was looking for a few more slaves. Perhaps …
Fourteen was considered an acceptable age for marriage, and both Lucius and Seline were anxious to find a good mate for their daughter. That was definitely not Josesphus. Lucius was already in negotiations with a matchmaker. He knew that Consul Venterii was looking for a wife for his son Bartollome. That would be an extremely advantageous union for both parties. Consul Venterii was on the War Council. He could do much to further the General's career. And Lucius could keep the Consul abreast of the latest military developments in the field long before 'official' word was out.
Divia had vehemently argued with him and had sworn that she would make him pay for what he planned to do. She insisted that she was in love with Josephus and she would do whatever it took to be with him. Later, when he went to his room to say his ritual prayers to Orpesius, the tiny god was missing. Several of the servants had seen Divia in the area, but none of them could place her in the room at any time.
That was more than enough for him. Angrily, he stormed to the weapons room and pulled the cat-o-nine-tails from the wall.
He closed his eyes. He could still hear the popping as the barbs made contact with her back. He could still hear her whimpers, but, to her credit, she did not scream or cry out. She was the daughter of a Roman General, after all.
"If I had taken it … and I am not admitting that I did, I would have hidden it in a place where you will never find it." She glared at him and he saw evil blazing in her eyes. "If you whip me again, I can guarantee that your precious little god will be lost forever."
**********
"Torture? You tortured her?" Robyn asked a note of horror in her voice.
"You must understand. That was a radically different time, and I was a radically different person. Torture was not all that uncommon."
"But your own child?"
Lucien sighed loudly. "Unfortunately, yes. I once said that I had done many things that I was not proud of. That was one of them." He smiled halfheartedly, but there was no joy or pleasure in his face. Then, suddenly, the mask of impassiveness slammed into place. He led her toward the next room. "Enough of this talk. I have heard that they are excavating the area where my villa stood. Let's see if they have recovered any more of my belongings besides this statue."
**********
He walked up to the case. He studied the small statue encased in the glass. < Yes. This was exactly what I am looking for. Obvious antiquity. Religious significance. Minimum security. Easily concealed. I have several buyers that would pay handsomely for this. > He wrote something in the margin of the tour book.
**********
"I STILL think they should have a church wedding." Teressa Giovanetti said to Miriam Feldman. "After all, Robyn is Catholic." The two were sitting in the garden of the Van Gelder Co-op Apartment Complex where they lived. Although it was a November evening, the weather in Southern California was still warm enough to enjoy the out of doors.
"I know that, but Lucien doesn't acknowledge any religious preference. So I think a civil ceremony is in order." Miriam replied to her friend's suggestion.
"But being married at city hall is so impersonal." Teressa retorted.
"Don't you remember, Nick and Toni had almost the same problem with their wedding? They solved it by being married here in this very garden. And they had a priest, a rabbi and a judge performing the ceremony. That way everyone was satisfied. Maybe we could do the same thing for their parents."
"Miriam." Teressa said, planting a loud sloppy kiss on her friend's forehead. "You are a genius."
" 'Scuse me, ladies." Jeb Puckett, another resident of the complex, and Lucien LaCroix's vampire 'grandson' came into the garden. "I couldn't help but overhearin' what y'all was talking about." That wasn't difficult, given the Southern vampire's preternatural hearing abilities. "I take it you're talkin' about the upcomin' weddin' between Mr. LaCroix and Miss Robyn?"
Teressa nodded.
"Well, if you're lookin' for a place to hold it, what about the Arboretum? I mean, it's probably as close to heaven on earth as you're gonna get here in Los Angeles. I go there an awful lot. 'Specially when I got a lot on my mind. It's so peaceful and quiet there, I feel that I can talk to God and He can hear me real clear. Sittin' there amongst the trees and flowers, it's a lot more magnificent than any stone and cement cathedral I ever seen. Course, I ain't seen too many cathedrals in person. But I seen a lot of pictures of 'em. And while they is pretty, the Arboretum is a whole lot prettier. I reckon it'd be the perfect place for a wedding."
"Jeb!" Miriam said, grabbing the young man and hugging him tightly. "I think you've hit it on the head. It would be ideal. And Mike Guierrerro knows several people on the Parks Commission. Flowers By Mike has a contract to provide seasonal flowers for them. I'll see if I can get him to talk to somebody first thing in the morning. Teressa. You call Father Ryan. Ask if he'll be available. I'll call my cousin, Rabbi Solomon, and Jeb here can talk to Judge Wapler."
"Jeb." Teressa said. "I'd appreciate it if you kept this conversation to yourself. We'd like this to be sort of a wedding gift to the couple."
**********
Nick pushed aside the band of yellow tape that cordoned off the room. Even though it was his day off, his partner, Mike Taylor had called him about this one. According to Mike, something in the back of his head told him to.
Somehow, Nick had a feeling of deja vu. There had been a similar robbery in Toronto while he was on the force there, and in that one, the guard had been killed as well. In that particular case, LaCroix had been the murderer. He had wanted a jade cup that had been excavated from Altun Kinel. It was used in a ritual that was supposed to be a cure for vampirism. He murdered the guard, just to mess with Nick's mind. This time though, he knew that LaCroix was not the killer. The man had been shot. LaCroix would not have resorted to anything that crude. He had an uneasy feeling that his vampire father was somehow involved just the same.
Doctor Quincy McCoy, the coroner came to them. "The victim's mane is Terrence Allen. He's the night guard here at the museum. Male. Black. Age 63. Leaves a wife, four children and nine grandchildren. First great grandbaby is due in three weeks. He retired from the force about five years ago and has been working part time as a security guard for the museum ever since. The ironic thing is this was supposed to be his day off. He volunteered to work for one of the younger guys so he could be with his kid for his birthday. That's the kind of guy he is … I mean he was. I knew him personally. A nicer guy you won't find. Why is it always the good ones?"
He sighed heavily. "From all indications, he must have surprised the robber or robbers while they were cleaning out the contents of that case." He pointed to a display case with the glass smashed. "He was shot twice in the chest. It appears that at least one of the bullets hit his heart. My best guess says he was dead before he hit the floor."
"Do we know what was in the display case?" Nick asked.
The curator, one … " McCoy checked his clipboard. "Mr. Aloysius Haggerman." He pointed to a small bookish man who also had a clipboard in his possession. "Checked the contents of the case with the officers earlier. According to him, nothing of any great value was displayed there. Only some minor artifacts unearthed recently from the excavations at Pompeii."
< Pompeii? > Nick knew his hunch was right. He would bet next month's paycheck that LaCroix was somehow involved. < Now the only question is how is he involved … And why? >
"It wasn't the artifact itself that made it unusual." Aloysius Haggerman told the detectives. "Household gods were a dime a dozen. Any family of any significance had at least one. Some families had as many as twenty. It was the fact that this particular god was found in the house of a gladiator. You must understand. Gladiators were usually prisoners of war, slaves, or hardened criminals. Definitely the dregs of Roman society. Occasionally, one like Marcus Flavinus would be a gifted fighter, and would become something of a hero to the masses. Much like sports heroes of today. He most likely would then be granted his freedom and might even take a small position in the social order. Still, for one of them to have a household god in his possession was virtually unheard of. Household gods were usually family ancestors. In most cases, gladiators had no family to speak of and even if they did, there were rarely any religious ties with them. Except for the Christians and Jews among them, most gladiators were atheists at best."
"And you have no idea why this particular statue was stolen?" Nick asked.
"None whatsoever."
**********
"Now, you are certain that we can do that?" Lucien LaCroix asked the Observatory Curator.
"Of course. We have weddings here all the time. Especially at night. Up here, the stars seem so close that you can almost reach out and touch them. It provides the perfect backdrop for an evening wedding. I can guarantee you won't regret your decision, Mr. LaCroix. And your bride to be will be thrilled as well. I can understand your wanting the plans to be a secret, but I would have liked to get her input as well as yours."
"She and I have discussed this before. I believe I know what she wants. You can arrange for the doves and balloons as well? She was particularly insistent about that."
The Curator tried to hide the smile. "It can be arranged."
"Good. Then I shall leave everything in your capable hands." He handed him a cashiers check. "I trust that is sufficient deposit."
The Curator's eyes widened as he read the amount. "Most sufficient, I assure you."
**********
Nick studied the sample encased in the plastic evidence bag. According to Angie Roberson from Robbery, the bloody shards of glass were from the display case. Also, according to her, Forensics said that the blood did not match the victim's. The only other explanation was that it had come from the robber. He must have cut himself when he shattered the glass.
He glanced around the bullpen. Everyone seemed to be busy with their own tasks. It was safe to assume no one saw him slip the baggie into his pocket.
Minutes later, he locked the stall door and sat on the toilet. Although he had to use the facilities on a recurring basis now that he was eating semi regularly, this was not one of those occasions. He withdrew the bag and gently peeled the identifying tape off, being careful not to disturb any of the pieces. The tape was scored so that it would not tear evenly. That was supposed to reveal if there was any evidence of tampering, but with his abilities, he could replace it so that no one would know it had been opened.
He carefully extracted a tiny, blood stained sliver of glass. One this small would not even be missed. Meticulously, he replaced the tape. Using his vampire sight, he checked the seal. Unless someone looked under a microscope, no one would ever know that the baggie had been compromised.
He moistened his finger with a drop of water and deftly touched the red stain. He brought his finger to his lips and gently licked the moistened area. Although the blood was dried, there might still be enough information to give him some kind of a clue to the murderer's identity. He knew that what he was doing was blatantly illegal, and anything he found out would never be admissible in court, but if it helped him catch Terry Allen's killer, it was worth it.
He closed his eyes and savored the blood. The scent was vaguely familiar, as though he had smelled or tasted it before. He had the sensation that the robber was white, late middle aged, and down on his luck. He also tasted traces of alcohol. There was also definite anger in the sample, as well as frustration. He had tasted so many similar bloods in the past 800 years, and it was becoming somewhat difficult to tell them apart. < That's probably why it's so familiar. > He 'saw' him shoot Terrence Allen and take the statue. He also had the fuzzy impression of him meeting with another man shortly before the robbery, but because the blood was stale, it was not clear who the man was, or what his role in the crime may have been.
**********
He swallowed two more double strength painkillers and washed them down with a triple whiskey. Even that did little to relieve the throbbing in his hand. It hurt like hell and probably was infected as well, but he couldn't risk going to a doctor or the Emergency Room. The police probably had a bulletin out looking for anyone with hand or arm cuts.
He dialed the number. He could get the money and head for Las Vegas. He would find a doctor there. The police wouldn't have sent anything out of state. Yet. If he was lucky, maybe he could win at the craps table while he was there. Then he could lay low and return to LA when the heat was off. He still had to finish his mission here.
**********
"Are you sure you don't want to talk this over with Lucien?" Clarissa La Pont asked.
"Positive." Robyn replied. "He's made his wishes quite clear. It's something I want as well. We both want to be married in the Japanese garden at the Maison."
"Are you sure? I thought you wanted to go all out?"
"I did, but it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind, isn't it?"
"Good enough for me." Clarissa hugged her friend and soon to be 'stepmother'. "I'll be glad to make all the arrangements. Now, won't you have a celebratory drink with me?" She took a bottle of 'After Sunset Perignon' from the dorm sized refrigerator behind her desk and sat two silver rimmed glasses on the table in front of them.
"I thought you served human and Red Deer here at the restaurant."
"I do. But this is a special blend just for special occasions. It's been cut with champagne instead of regular wine or whiskey. And I think the wedding of you and Lucien is just about as special as it can get." She poured the dark red bubbling liquid into the crystal goblets. "Skol!" She said as she touched her glass to Robyn's. She took a sip.
"How about Mazel Tov." Robyn said as she clinked glasses.
"Okay. Mazel Tov." They took another drink.
"Cheers!"
Clarissa put her hand over the rim just as Robyn was about to take another sip. "There's not enough in there for any more decent toasts." She said as she refilled their glasses
"That sounds like an excellent idea." Robyn said as she emptied her glass. Clarissa did the same.
"Lebhaft lange und erweitern." Robyn said as she drained another glass of the fizzing liquid.
"What was that?" Clarissa asked as she followed suit.
"It means live long and prosper." Robyn replied. "A couple of German Starfleet officers I met at the last Marcon taught it to me."
"In that case. Longes d'phase et prosprent." Clarissa said as she refilled the glasses again. "That's the same thing in French."
"I guess in our case, that phrase takes on a whole new meaning." Robyn said as she turned the bottle upside down. "Oh dear. The bottle is empty." She said with a silly grin on her face.
"Unfortunately, that's all I have of that practiculer vintage … pertecoller vantage …." Clarissa said, throwing the bottle into the recycling bin. "You know what I mean. That stuff "
"That's a shame. We jusht got schtarted. What'll we do for the rest of the toasts?" Robyn looked at her host through bleary yellow accented eyes.
"I dohn't know. Wait a minute. Yes I do. Jeb and Tino were working on their latest batch of bloodshine in the cellar. Let'sh shee if they got anything we can ushe." Clarissa headed for the door. "Wait in my office. I'm going to the bashement."
"We are in your office."
"Oh."
**********
"Tonight's subject is love, my children. True. Lasting. Eternal. Love." The Nightcrawler whispered into his microphone. It had been a long time since he had given a thought provoking monologue. Somehow, since Nick had come to accept himself as a vampire and stopped looking for the nonexistent cure, much of the fun had gone out of baiting and harassing him. Since he had realized that he was in love with Robyn, he also realized that he had changed as well. He no longer wanted to be the acidic Nightcrawler that had seared the airwaves only a few short years ago. Unfortunately, that was what the fans wanted, so he kept up the image. It was becoming harder and harder to write these biting little speeches.
"When love hits you, there is nothing like it in the universe. You realize that the object of your affections is the one that you want to spend the rest of eternity with. You would willingly do anything he or she asked." He smiled broadly. That last statement was particularly true. Whatever Robyn wanted, he was going to make sure that she got.
"As with everything, that is both good and bad. Anything that is asked or offered by either partner should be for the benefit of both of them and not merely to please the other. When you do something you do not want to do, just to please or pacify the other person, that is not love." < Where did that come from? >
His smile waned slightly. <No. That is not the case with us. What I am doing is for both of us. I want it as much as she does. >
Somehow though, his thoughts did not ring quite true. While Robyn wanted a big wedding, LaCroix was not completely convinced that was what he wanted. As a Roman General he reveled in all the adulation and celebration. Almost 2000 years later, it was getting a bit stale. Centuries of parades and festivities had left him jaded. Now, he found that he much more enjoyed being in the background, not in the spotlight.
"A love that requires that you submerge your identity and your desires into another's, whether voluntarily or mandatory is not true love. It is possession. It is control." < Am I trying to buy Robyn's love by giving in to her every wish? Is she trying to dominate me by insisting on a wedding that I do not want? >
"So my children, think long and hard before you declare that you truly love someone. Make sure that it is love and not something else that you feel. Loneliness, fear, and desperation can often masquerade as love." <After all these centuries, do I truly love Robyn, or am I just lonely? >
"Until tomorrow, Mes Enfants. Remember. The Nightcrawler truly loves you. The Nightcrawler may be the only one who really does love you."
He queued the album and sat back in the chair. He had some serious thinking to do. Perhaps he should pay a visit to the museum and have a long talk with Orpesius.
**********
Toni gave a small whistle. The dress that Kaiya held before her went way beyond her sketches. "Where did you get the inspiration for that? My drawings weren't even half that good."
The dress was done in floor length antique ivory silk. The bodice was tight fitting and came to a point just below the waist. It had an overshirt of nearly transparent gold colored lace, and was criss crossed with gold threads woven into it. This was drawn into a ruffle at the neckline. The finger length sleeves were puffed and of the same gold lace. They too had the gold thread woven through them. The hem of the flowing skirt had a ruffle of the same material as the bodice and sleeves. It looked like something out of a fairy tale.
Kaiya blushed slightly. "Actually, this wasn't from your sketches. This is … " The blush deepened. "This is … "
"Yes? … " Toni prompted.
" … From my daughter's Barbie doll collection. Somehow it looked like something your mother would wear to get married in." She held up a fashion doll wearing a miniature version of the dress. "If you don't like it, I can always use it in a future movie."
"Like it! Don't be ridiculous! I love it! It's awesome! I don't care where you got the concept. It's perfect. Mom will look like a queen in it. Speaking of queens, that gives me an idea. Why don't we make the veil out of the same material as the overshirt and attach it to the gold tiara from the wedding scene in 'Charles And Diana'? With satin shoes dyed to match, Mom will look positively gorgeous."
"What about glass slippers? Of course they'd be made of clear plastic, but the effect would be the same. She'd be like Cinderella at the ball."
"I like that." Toni agreed.
"I'll call the prop department and have them dig it out of mothballs. I thought we could also make the bridesmaids and matrons dresses out of the same pattern, only in a cocktail length, and with a silver overblouse instead of the gold. Yours and Sheryl's would be in a sky blue, Clarissa, Nellie and Jenny would be in baby pink, and Nattie in seafoam green. And maybe silver tiaras."
"This is getting better and better every minute."
"Good. I'll add those to my shopping list for props to deliver. Since we're going with a Cinderella theme, why not have the men wearing quasi military uniforms with the tunics matching the color scheme of the women?"
"Kaiya you’re an absolute genius! And if we're going this far, why not go all the way." Toni said. Her eyes fairly twinkled with inspiration.
"Just what is running around in your twisted little mind, Atonia Marie Parker Knight?"
"You'll see, Kaiya. All I have to do is twist a few arms and call in a few favors."
**********
He landed hard against the wall. Blood leaked from his lip where he had been struck.
"You STUPID idiot!" The man said. "How could you have been so reckless! It was a simple assignment. Get in. Get the statue. And get out. But no. You had to complicate things. You had to go and kill the guard."
"I'm sorry." He said. "I had no choice in the matter. He came in just as I was about to leave. I had to kill him. There was no other way. He saw me and he could have identified me." He really hadn't wanted to do this job, but the guy he had met at the bar said it was only a simple breaking and entering. He had been given everything he needed, including the gun. He wasn't a thief, at least not like this, but he was broke, and the money he was being paid was more than he had seen in many years. More than he would ever see again.
"There is always an alternative. You could have worn a mask. You should have checked your information more carefully. Especially the guard's schedule and routes. You did not have to carry a weapon. Any of those options would have been infinitely preferable to a murder. And to make matters worse, you left your blood all over the case. Haven't you ever heard of DNA profiling? Why didn't you wear gloves?"
"I did. But the sharp edges cut right through the latex."
"I meant thick leather gloves, you cretin."
He hung his head and gingerly rubbed his hand. Yes, leather gloves would have been preferable to the thin exam gloves, but he was only trying not to leave fingerprints, he didn't think about sharp glass.
The man held up the statue of Orpesius. "I make my living being as inconspicuous as possible. The theft of this statue would not have caused too much of a fuss. It is only a small chunk of plaster of minimal value to the museum, both monetarily and archaeologically. In three or four weeks, it would have been relegated to the unsolved files and forgotten. A murder, however, is a whole different thing. The police won't give up that quickly. Especially when it involves one of their own. Even if he was retired. It could get very sticky."
He opened the desk drawer and threw an envelope on the table.
"What's that?" The thief asked.
"Your payoff."
He counted the bills. "But this is nowhere near what we agreed on."
"We did not agree on you killing the guard. Now, I suggest you take the money and leave town ... perhaps even leave the country ... as quickly as you can. I'll do what I can to keep this as quiet as possible."
"I came here for a reason and I'm not going to leave until that's settled."
"If you don't get out of here quickly, you may be here for the rest of your life with no hope of parole. That is, if they don't strap you to a gurney and shoot a bunch of deadly drugs into your arm first."
**********
Lucien LaCroix stared at the case. This wasn't the same as a few days ago. That was definitely not the statue of Orpesius. And the glass cover was new, too. With his senses, he could smell the faint residue of caulking and paint. Angrily, he stormed to the docent sitting at the information desk.
"Where is the statue that was in that case?" He demanded.
The docent recoiled both physically and mentally in reaction to the master vampire's ire. "It's been replaced, sir. If you have been reading the papers, you know that there was a robbery here the other night." He said in a quivering voice.
"Yes, I remember now. The guard was killed. There was no mention of what was taken, though. Where is my god?"
"Your god?"
"The statue. Where is it?"
The docent only stared blankly at the man in front of him.
"Perhaps I can be of service." Aloysius Haggerman said. "The statue was stolen in the robbery. Since it was of little value, we merely replaced it with another one. That is done all the time when an inconsequential piece is damaged or missing."
< Little value! Inconsequential! How DARE he talk about my ancestor like that! > LaCroix seethed. < I'll have this pompous arrogant little toady for a midnight snack. > "Where is the museum curator?" He asked, barely controlling his anger "I wish to speak with him about this matter."
"I am the curator, sir. Aloysius Haggerman. Mr. … Ah … " He held out his hand.
"LaCroix. Lucien LaCroix." He let waves of rage flow over the two men.
"La … LaCroix?" Haggerman swallowed noticeably. His donations were almost single handedly financing the Roman antiquities department. "It certainly is a pleasure to meet you, sir. You have done more than anyone else to … "
"The statue." LaCroix interrupted. "Where is it? I shall not ask the question again."
"We … We are cooperating fully with the police in the matter. If the statue turns up, I will be certain to notify you immediately."
"Who is handling the investigation?"
"Homicide division. Since the guard was killed, they are in charge of the investigation."
< I surmised that from the newspaper article, you dolt. > Draining the anal retentive little pencil pusher was becoming more and more appealing. "And who are the detectives on the case?" He timed his words with the curator's heartbeat.
"Knight and Taylor." The curator said flatly.
So. His son was on the case and he hadn't said anything to him about it. This definitely called for a visit to this favorite child.
"May I inquire why you are so interested in that particular piece?"
"You may not." LaCroix spun on his heels and stormed out of the exhibit hall.
**********
Nick threw the folder down in disgust. Another dead end. A pawn shop owner had called that someone had brought in an antique statue that seemed to match the description of the one stolen from the museum. According to the owner, the man had said that it was over two thousand years old. It turned out to be a cheap knockoff, and the evidence had been turned over to the Bunko squad for possible fraud charges.
According to Forensics, the bullets that killed Terrence Allen were most likely from a .32 caliber handgun commonly known as a Saturday Night Special. The DNA and chemical workups on the blood on the glass only confirmed what Nick already knew. The man had abused his body with alcohol and malnutrition. The blood was A+, the most common blood type.
He became aware of a tingling sensation that usually preceded his master. He looked up to see LaCroix standing by his desk.
"Where is it?" LaCroix demanded.
"And a good evening to you too, Mr. LaCroix." Mike Taylor said.
"I wish to speak with my son … alone." He glared at Nick's partner with a look that could wither stone.
Mike cleared his throat. The last thing he wanted was to be on the bad side of the elder vampire. From what he could observe, at this time there did not seem to be anything but bad sides. "I just remembered." He said in a slight falsetto. "I have to go to the … ah … bathroom. Yes, that's it … the bathroom." He stood up and headed out of the squad room at slightly under a full run.
Nick motioned to one of the interrogation rooms. Once inside, Nick indicated a chair for LaCroix, but the master vampire only paced the room.
"Now then, where is what?" Nick asked.
"The god that was stolen from the museum." LaCroix said. "It
is mine and I want it returned."
"Yours?"
"It was one of my household gods. In fact it was my favorite one. I am not too concerned whether it is returned to me, or to the museum, but I want it back. Since you are in charge of the investigation, it is your responsibility. You WILL see that it is returned." With that, he turned and stalked out of the room. A second later, LaCroix was nowhere in sight.
"What did Mister Happiness And Cheer want?" Mike asked timidly when Nick returned to his desk.
"If I knew that, I'd tell you." Nick mused. "Something about the statue that was stolen from the museum. <My hunch was right. He is involved. And from his little tirade a few minutes ago, up to his fangs. >
**********
Robyn tentatively opened one eye. She opened the other eye. Somehow, her surroundings did not look familiar. The last thing she remembered clearly was drinking a toast to the Enforcers in Clarissa's office the After Sunset. She must have fallen asleep after that, and Clarissa probably had Milos carry her to the upstairs apartment that the tavern owner kept above the restaurant.
It was still dark out. That much she could tell through her vampire senses. < Good. With a little bit of luck, I can make it home before sunrise. >
She tried to rise, but the room, for some strange reason, began to spin and rock violently. < Earthquake? > In the time she had been in Southern California, she had felt several measurable tremors, but certainly none this violent. She lay back on the bed, and in a few minutes, the shaking began to lessen markedly. She carefully examined the room for signs of damage, but was puzzled when nothing seemed to be out of place. She tried to get up again, just as another earthquake hit. She screamed as the floor came up to meet her.
"M-m-m-o-o-a-a-h!" The moaning came from the bed across the room from her. "Robyn." Clarissa said in a hoarse voice. It was deeply muffled because the vampire was laying face down on the bed. Thankfully, vampires did not need to breathe in the accepted manner, or she would have surely smothered. "Must you make such a loud noise?"
"Clarissa." Robyn half shouted, half croaked. Her mouth suddenly felt as though it was stuffed with dryer lint. "We have to get out of here before the next earthquake hits."
"There is no earthquake." Clarissa whispered. "And please. Speak softly. My ears are much too sensitive to tolerate your shouting."
"If there isn't an earthquake, then why is the room shaking?" Robyn whispered. Clarissa was right. This decibel level was much more acceptable.
"Because you are hung over."
"HUNG OVER?" Robyn quickly realized her mistake and lowered her voice once more. "But that's impossible. Vampires don't get drunk."
"Most vampires don't drink a gallon of bloodshine, either." Clarissa replied. "On top of three liters of blood cut with over a fifth of Scotch ... After a magnum of champagne blood."
"We drank all of that?"
"Not exactly. That's when I stopped counting."
Milos came in just then with a tray with two goblets filled with a dark red liquid. "I think you ladies might need this." He said as he set the tray on the nightstand between the beds. He offered his hand to help Robyn. She gladly accepted. "It's pure uncut stuff, freshly donated. Best thing in the world for a hangover."
Clarissa gazed at the bandage on her mortal bartender's arm. "It's yours, isn't it?'
"Gave it about an hour ago. It doesn't come any fresher than that." Milos replied, blushing slightly. "Unless it's right out of the vein." He proffered his arm. "Of course if you'd rather have it that way … "
Now it was Clarissa's turn to blush. At least as much as a vampire could blush. "That won't be necessary. This will do fine."
Although Robyn had drunk bottled blood, and had killed animals for their blood on Bali Kiel, she had never had human blood this fresh before. It was still warm. She could feel everything Milos felt and thought. She was amazed at his loyalty and love for his employer. She wondered if Clarissa knew. Or even if Milos knew. She sat the glass on the tray.
The drinks worked much like a magic potion. Within minutes, both vampires were feeling much better.
Robyn stared at the clock on the far wall of the room until it came into sharp focus. It said 7:30. "I guess I'm stuck here for the day. I'm never going to make it home before sunrise. I know I don't have very much tolerance for the sun yet, and I'd hate to get french fried at this point in my unlife."
"There is no need for that, Miss Robyn." Milos said with a smile. "That's 7:30 PM, not AM."
"You mean I slept the entire day?"
"No, two days."
Robyn held her head. "Oh, no. Lucien is going to stake me when I get home."
"I doubt that. I informed him that you were spending a few days with Miss Clarissa, and his reply was for you to enjoy yourself. Which I assume you did."
"Then he doesn't know I was drunk?"
"He undoubtedly does. He would be able to sense it through your link." Clarissa said. "But without proof, he can't very well do anything about it. And I certainly won't tell him. Besides, considering some of the binges I've seen him on, it would be like the pot calling the kettle black."
"You mean he … "
"Blotted, bombed, and blitzed, plastered, potted and planted, soused, snorkeled, smashed, toasted … and tanked. And all at the same time." She leered wickedly and wiggled her eyebrows.
Carefully, Robyn got up from her bed. "Shall we get showered and dressed and try again to see about the wedding plans?"
**********
Teressa Giovanetti smiled broadly as she hung up the phone. Mike Guerrerro had finished talking with his friend on the Parks Commission. The Arboretum was a popular place for weddings. While the manor house had been booked for that day, Mike's friend had said that they could have it that evening. He told Mike he was doing this only because they were such good friends. It would mean bringing in extra personnel to clean up that quickly, but it could be done. That would mean overtime, which would cost a bundle extra in surcharges. According to Mike, all they had to do was pay the fees, and the place was theirs. She took out her checkbook. With Miriam and her and Jeb each paying one third, the amount he quoted was not exorbitant.
**********
Robyn brought a glass of their 'favorite beverage' and set it in front of Lucien. He had been distant the past few days. Even in their lovemaking he had blocked much of his thoughts from her. In fact, Robyn could hardly call it making love. She wasn't completely sure it was even having sex. He seemed to be only going through the motions. < Does he still love me? He promised me forever when I was brought across. Now, less than a year later, he barely acknowledges that I am there. > Something in the back of her head told her that this was not the case. Something else was bothering him.
"What's troubling you, my love?" She asked sitting beside him.
"Nothing." She could see that the stoic mask of indifference was firmly glued in place. That alone told her that he was upset about something.
"Lucien. I know you better than that. You may be able to fool most of the Community on the West Coast, but you forget we have a special bond. Even if I weren't a vampire, I'd know something was wrong. Are you going to tell me, or do I have to get it the hard way?" She let her fangs drop slightly. Just enough to be noticed.
"You would not understand."
"Try me."
Silence.
"Lucien!" She let her fangs drop fully. Her eyes were flecked with gold as she picked up his arm and started to bring it to her mouth.
"Very well. You win." He pulled his arm back.
"This is not a win lose situation. I want to know what's troubling you and why you think you can't tell me. Either in words or in blood. "
He took a deep breath. "Orpesius is gone. He was the statue that was stolen from the museum a few days ago."
"How do you know that? There wasn't anything in the papers about exactly what was stolen."
"I went to the museum to … to …" He got up and started pacing the floor. "Never mind why I went there. Suffice it to say that I went there and the statue wasn't there."
"And what was bothering you so much that you felt that you had to pray to Orpesius about it."
"NOTHING!" He downed his drink in one gulp and headed for the stairs. "I said nothing was bothering me. And I DID NOT go there to pray to Orpesius. If you do not mind, I am tired. I shall retire now."
"Oh, no you don't." She was beside him. "You said he was your favorite god. Something has been bothering you for the past several days. I know when something bothers me, it helps if I pray over it. Tell me again that you weren't going to pray to Orpesius. Maybe then I'll believe you."
"This is something between Orpesius and me. You would not understand. And do not talk to me in such a manner, woman."
"Like hell I wouldn't understand." Almost in his face. "Something has you so upset that you, an avowed agnostic at best, felt that you had to pray to your personal god. I understand that much. We are going to be married in less than two months. I thought we agreed there would be no secrets between us. Whatever this is, it qualifies as a major secret. And I'll talk to you any way I want to. This isn't ancient Rome. Get used to it."
Her answer was the door slamming. In a flash, she was in the bedroom. Lucien lay sullenly on the bed, still fully clothed. His arms were clenched tightly to his chest.
"Don't you dare walk away from me, Mr. High and Mighty Master Vampire Lucien LaCroix. The Community may cringe in fear before your terrible temper, but this Irish-German-Indian half breed doesn’t give a fat rat's patootie about your highly touted overrated temper. WE are going to talk this out. Now. Do you read me?"
In less than a thought, he picked her up and pinned her against the far wall, his hand roughly around her throat. His eyes were feral, and his fangs were elongated. "I said … I am fatigued. Go." He hissed
She had never seen him this angry and she doubted whether anyone else had either. For a split second, Robyn thought about reconsidering her actions. < NO. I've come this far. If I back down now, I might as well give up and become nothing more than his cringing lackey. Forever is a long time to kowtow. And I don't kowtow to anyone. > She grabbed his throat in the same manner and squeezed just a little harder than he was doing to her. "And … I … said we are going to talk this out." She hissed back. Her fury fairly shone through orange tinged irises.
< I have chosen well. Eternity will indeed be a most interesting time. > Without warning, he sunk his fangs into her neck.
< If that's the way he wants to play it … > She reciprocated.
With the first mouthful of blood, she understood. After a few swallows, she pulled out. "Why did you do that?" She asked. Although he usually managed to hide his innermost thoughts, this time she could sense everything he had done over the past few weeks as though he was shouting them at her. "And why didn't you say anything to me about it?"
"Why did I do what?" He asked, somewhat bewildered. < She has read my thoughts in the blood. In my anger, I neglected to shield. >
"Book the Griffith Observatory for our wedding."
"That is what you wanted, isn't it? And I didn't say anything because I wanted it to be a surprise. Why did you make arrangements with Clarisse to reserve the Maison?"
"That's where you wanted the wedding to be. I had no idea you thought I was trying to dominate you with a big wedding. We are SUPPOSED to be equals. That's why you had Lady Zera bring me across. So we WOULD be equals. And what makes you think you can buy my love? You CAN'T buy my love. It isn't for sale. I gave it to you freely and willingly, and I'm NOT going to take it back. You're stuck with me for the rest of eternity, Lucien LaCroix. That is, if that's what YOU want!"
"Oh yes. I do want that." His anger dissipated as quickly as it had risen. Within seconds, his eyes were their usual ice blue and his fangs had retracted. "I only wanted to make you happy." He kissed her deeply. "That's all I ever wanted to do."
"And I did what I did because I thought that would make you happy." Her kiss eclipsed his in intensity.
It was a good thing vampires did not need to breathe as mortals did. Lucien and Robyn did not break their embrace as clothes were discarded and they dropped onto the bed. Their lovemaking was hard and passionate, and they hungrily devoured each other with hands, lips and fangs, both figuratively and literally, before they were satisfied. Their second attempt, less than a half hour later, was as loving and affectionate as their previous attempt was fiery and lusty. Their third combined the best of the previous two. As did the third and the fourth.
They lay spent and sated in each other's arms.
"So, what do we do now?" Robyn asked as she idly toyed with the fine hair on his chest. "We have two sites for the wedding, and only one couple to be married … us."
"I suppose we should cancel one of them." He ran his fingers lightly through her auburn locks. "Since I know you want a large wedding, I suggest you notify Clarisse that we will not be needing the Maison."
"No way. You have always disliked being in the spotlight. I was being selfish to insist that we go all out. Therefore, the Observatory is out." She made lazy circles around his nipples with her fingernail. She could feel them hardening. < Like something else … >
"I cannot do that. I have already put down a large non refundable deposit. The money is not important. I can take ten times that amount out of petty cash and it will never be missed. It is a symbol of my devotion to you." He barely touched the fine hairs along the front of her ear with his index finger, causing shivers to run through her body.
"So what do we do?" She whispered as she gently bit along the top of his ear.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The sensations were coming fast and furious. "I do not know. We shall discuss that later." He kissed her with a growing passion. "Right now, something has come up that needs to be tended to."
Munks Corner 1963
"You're WHAT?" Deputy Sheriff Joseph Scott shouted at the couple before him.
"Married, Daddy." Robyn answered in a small voice. "We went down to Kentucky yesterday evening and were married this morning."
Harry Scott grabbed Jack Parker by the front of his shirt and roughly pulled him tiptoe. That was not difficult, considering that Robyn's brother was well over 6 feet tall and Jack barely topped 5 feet 7. "You scoundrel! You're nothing but a bum! You knew we never would've let you marry her, but you went and did it anyway!" He growled.
"There's nothing you can do about it, Harry. It's all legal." Jack said. "We've got the license to prove it. Whether you like it or not, your sister and I are married."
"Well, for your information, I don't like it! I ought to beat the crap outta you, you smug little bastard." He said, taking a swing at Jack.
Joe laid his meaty hand on his son's shoulder. "Harry. Stop and think a minute. You know what your mother would say about fighting in the house."
"That's right." Harry said. "Let's go outside and finish this." He practically dragged his hapless 'brother in law' to the back door.
"Daddy." Robyn pleaded. "Aren't you going to stop them?"
"Jack's had this coming for a long time." Joe Scott replied. "If it weren't for my badge, I'd be the one cleaning his clock."
From the yard, the sounds of fists hitting flesh were clearly heard.
**********
He rolled the statue in his hands. < So, Lucien LaCroix wants the statue, too. That puts an entirely different slant on things. > He picked up the phone and dialed a number. "I have another party interested in the statue that was stolen from the museum." He said. "Perhaps you would consider revising what you are willing to pay for it to guarantee that it will be yours."
**********
"Jeb. What did you find out about Judge Wapler?" Teressa Giovanetti asked. "Will he be able to perform the ceremony?"
"Afraid not." The southern vampire said. "Seems he's already got a weddin' that same day and at the same time. Ah … I think we had better talk with Mr. LaCroix and Miss Robyn before we do any more plannin' on this here weddin'."
"And why is that?" Miriam asked. "It's supposed to be a secret, remember."
" 'Cause the weddin' he's got to perform is theirs. And it's at the Griffith Observatory."
"And I talked with Father Ryan. He's got a wedding that day, too." Teressa added. "This one's at the Maison De Mer. And you won't believe this, but it's Robyn's and Lucien's.
"I think we had better talk with Mr. LaCroix and Ms. Parker." Miriam said.
**********
"I think we might have a lead on the Allen murder." Mike Taylor told his partner. "It's pretty circumstantial at this point, but it just might pan out."
"Right now, I'd even take a lead from a ouija board. It's been over a month and we don't even have a clue."
"Seems Auto Theft Division just got word from the Nevada Highway Patrol. They recovered a car that had been reported by one of those car rental places as three weeks overdue and possibly stolen. It wasn't one of the biggie companies, mind you, just some storefront business called Rent-a-Clunker. They rent older used cars for a fraction of what the big three charge, and … "
"Never mind the history lesson." Nick said. "Get to the part where it ties in with our case."
"The Nevada Police found the car parked at the Notell Motel about ten miles northeast of Las Vegas. According to them, there were some dried bloodstains on the front seat and steering wheel. They remembered the bulletin we put out about the robbery, so they did some testing. From the information they forwarded to our Forensics Lab, the bloodstains that they found match the ones on the glass from museum case. There were also lots of fingerprints. It looked like they were from several different people. Unfortunately, most of them were blurred or bloody. Nevada is running a FBI cross match on the partials they got. Hopefully, our murderer has a record somewhere."
"We should be so lucky. Do we have an ID on the person who rented the car and the room?"
"According to the desk clerk at the motel, the room was rented to a Joseph J. Smith. And if the address is correct, the house would be located about seventy five feet west of the Malibu pier. That would put it about ten feet underwater in the Pacific Ocean. That address is the same as the one on the car rental records. I'll bet a weeks pay that Joseph J. Smith is phony, too.
"Didn't they think to check the driver's license?"
"Places like the Notell Motel aren't always too particular who they rent to. If you have the money, you're legitimate."
"Great." Nick sighed. "Back to square one."
"Not exactly. While the car rental clerk couldn't give a detailed description, the motel clerk was able to. Frosting on the cake, he had an injured left hand. The Nevada Police are having a composite drawn up now. They'll fax it to us as soon as it is completed. Should be here by tomorrow sometime."
Nick looked heavenward and said a silent prayer of thanks.
**********
He pulled the thin piece of cloth that served as a blanket around him. Nothing was going right. First, he had been bamboozled into pulling the robbery. Then there was the guard. He had only gotten a fraction of the money he was supposed to get, and he had lost most of that in the first two nights at the casinos.
Now, not only his hand, but his whole arm was infected too. The doctor who had cleaned and stitched it said it was likely that the infection had gotten into his entire system. According to the sawbones, he had waited too long to have it looked at, and there was a good possibility that he might lose the arm, if not his life. The Doc had wanted to hospitalize him, but the last thing he needed was a public record of his whereabouts.
He reached over to the dilapidated metal filing cabinet that served as a nightstand and took the bottle of pills. He shook two onto the top of the cabinet and retrieved them with his good hand. He swallowed them with the remainder of the bottle of warm beer. The Doc had said not to drink alcohol with the antibiotics, but everyone knows beer isn't alcohol. Whiskey is. Besides, if they had to amputate, he might as well be dead. What good is a one armed pool shark anyway? That's how he had made his living for the past ten years.
Then to make matters worse, when he returned to his motel, the Smokies were all over the place. Probably got the word on that piece of crap he had rented in LA. He should have turned it in a week ago, but he couldn't risk taking it back. By now they probably knew he was the one who robbed the museum and killed the guard. The only thing he could do was get lost. He didn't even know that Las Vegas had a skid row, but it did. That's how he came to be in this two bit flophouse.
**********
"Are you crazy?" Nick said to his wife. "What could have possessed you to tell Kaiya to go ahead and make those little tin soldier suits for us?" He pointed to the sketches lying on the kitchen table. "Do you really think LaCroix is going to go for that?"
"I was hoping to talk him into it. And they aren't tin soldier suits. They're patterned after Nineteenth century Victorian Brigade Officer's uniforms. You and LaCroix should be familiar with them. You were there." Toni answered. "After all, Mom is giving up the big wedding at Griffith Park. I figured the least I could do is make the ceremony itself as lavish as I could. What could be more sumptuous than a mock military wedding?"
"What do you mean she's giving up Griffith Park? LaCroix just plunked down a king's ransom to rent the place for the ceremony."
"You've got to be joking. Mom and Clarissa have been working at feverish pace to get the Maison prepared for wedding. I ought to know. I've been over there every day for the past week."
"Houston. We have a problem. Let's get with your mother and my father as soon as possible and get this straightened out."
**********
They sat around one of the tables in the party room of the After Sunset. When Teressa and Miriam had called him only minutes after Toni and Nick, Lucien and Robyn called them all together. He already had a fairly good idea of what they wanted to see them about. He had read it in Robyn's blood two nights ago.
"Now. What is so important that you felt that you had to report it to me?" He asked the foursome.
"I cannot believe you booked two different …" "We thought you didn't …" All four were started talking together.
LaCroix put up his hand for silence. "Please. I can only hear one person at a time. While you decide who is going to go first, let me tell you what I already know. That way, we can eliminate a lot of duplication." He stood behind Robyn and put his hands on her shoulders. "She already knows that I have booked the Griffith Observatory for the ceremony. And I know that she has contacted Clarisse about holding the ceremonies at the Maison De Mer." He studied the faces of the others. "Is there anything else we should know?"
Both Teressa and Miriam studied the pattern in the floor intently.
"Yes, ladies?" LaCroix asked coldly. "What have you to report."
"Well, we ah … " Teressa stammered.
"It was supposed to be our wedding present to you… " Miriam added, still inspecting the floor
"Actually, Jeb suggested it." Teressa volunteered.
"Perhaps I should summon him here, too" The notion to slowly and excruciatingly drain the two ladies crossed his mind briefly. < Although I could get the information much quicker and much more painfully from Jebediah. >
"That won't be necessary." Teressa finally said. "We knew that there was a conflict as to where to hold the wedding. I mean, with the two of you having different religious beliefs, and coming from different backgrounds … "
"So, we thought we could make the whole thing a lot easier." Miriam continued. "We were looking for a place that would be neutral ground, so to speak. That's when Jeb came up with the idea to hold the wedding at the Arboretum."
LaCroix stared at the ceiling, a look of disbelief on his face. It was bad enough when they had two wedding sites. But now … Three?
"You'll just have to cancel the Arboretum." He said to them.
"I'm afraid we can't do that." Miriam replied. "Mike Guerrerro has a friend on the Parks Commission. When this friend heard that it was for a friend of his, he gave the manor house to us at a deep discount. And he will have to bring in a crew on overtime to get it ready for us. He's doing that out of his own pocket, but we have to pay him back."
"Besides." Teressa continued. "He's already cashed the checks."
"Now what do we do?" Robyn asked. "We have three sites and none of them can be cancelled."
"Why don't we have the wedding at all three places?" Toni suggested.
"What?" Lucien looked at his daughter in law.
"We could start at the Maison. It would be the perfect place to house the out of town guests. Then we could hold the pre wedding ceremonies there, too. You know, pictures, rehearsals, and things like that. And we could have the rehersal dinner there as well. On the evening of the wedding, we could all meet there and go as a group to the site of the actual wedding." She smiled. If what she was planning would pan out, this would be perfect.
"And we could hold the wedding ceremony at the Observatory. Considerably scaled down, of course." Robyn added.
"That just leaves the Arboretum." Miriam asked. "What would you use that for?"
"The reception, of course." Nick replied.
Lucien stroked his jaw, a look of deep thought on his face. "Yes." He finally said. "I think that it just might work. What do you think, Robyn."
"I like it too."
"Good. Then it is decided. Nicholas and I will take Griffith Park. Robyn and Toni will coordinate the details for the Maison with Clarisse. Teressa, you and Miriam are in charge of the Arboretum."
"Come, Miriam." Teressa said as she pulled on her companion's elbow. "We have tons of work to do."
"First, we have to get with Mario about having the Ristorante De Familia handle the catering. Then we have to talk to Clarissa about lending us that wonderful bartender that she did for Toni and Nick's wedding." Miriam said, taking out her ever present planning book and scribbling furiously.
"Then there's the band. And the … " Teressa said as the exited the room.
Robyn breathed a sigh of relief as the last of the group left the room. "I just have one question. You haven't said anything about a honeymoon."
"Honeymoon? You want a honeymoon? I had not even thought about a honeymoon." Lucien said. There was a small glint in his eye that belied his statement of innocence.
**********
Munks Corner 1963
"I'm sorry, Joe, there's nothing I can do." Judge Rob Eckroate said. Joe Scott and Robyn sat in chambers with him.
"But you have to annul the marriage." Joe replied angrily. "It's illegal. They are both underage. That's the law. They can't get married without parental consent, and my wife and I most definitely did not give consent."
"True." Judge Eckroate said. "That's the law in Ohio. But in Kentucky, the age of consent is eighteen. They are both over eighteen. According to the laws of the State Of Kentucky, they're man and wife. Unfortunately, if it's legal in Kentucky, it's legal here."
Joe turned to Robyn. "Well, Sissy, it looks like you are legally wed to that bum. I won't fight it any more. Just remember this. Whatever happens, we still love you and you can come to us at any time."
"What do we do about the disturbing the peace and public brawling charges against Harry and Jack?" The Judge asked.
"We'll bail Harry. Let Jack stew in his own juices until tomorrow and then drop the charges."
"But Daddy, it's our wedding night!" Robyn protested.
"There'll be plenty of time for that later. First, he has to learn a lesson."
**********
As the deputy put the key in the lock, both occupants of the cell stood up. "Okay, Harry, you're free to go." He said as Harry Scott left the enclosure. Harry had a large bandage on his forehead where the doctor had put stitches. The cut on his lip did not require any.
"What about me?" Jack Parker asked, fingering the deep purple spot on his cheek. His right eye was swollen shut. "I'm the victim in all of this. He started it, and he goes free! That's not fair."
"Sorry, Jack. That's up to the judge to decide." The deputy replied. "Barbara Scott only posted bail for her son. You'll have to stay in here until Mayor's Court convenes tomorrow morning."
**********
"C'mon, Jill. You owe me." Toni said to her friend. Jillian Barnes and Toni had been friends since Toni came to Los Angeles. They had even shared an apartment briefly until Toni could get on her feet. Jill was the one of the assistant property managers at Disneyland.
"Do you know the trouble I could get in just for even thinking about letting you borrow Cinderella's coach?"
"It's just for one night. I promise to bring it back right after the ceremony. No one will even know it's missing."
"Toni. I can understand why you want the coach for your mother's wedding, but the answer is still no. These aren't my rules. They were set down by Unca Walt himself. Right from day one. Nothing leaves the park without express written consent from the top brass. Not even so much as a dustpan. Even the costumes stay. There's no way Unca Mike is going to agree to let you have the coach."
"But you've used the coach for weddings in the past, haven't you?"
"Yes, but they were held here in the park."
"So, what's the difference if it's in the park or outside? If it will make you feel any easier, you can ride on the coach as a driver or footman."
"The difference is my neck. I let the coach out, and I'll be spending the rest of my natural life in the Dopey suit. Do you have any idea how hot those costumes can get? That is, IF I don't get canned on the spot. Or worse!"
"You still owe me. Or have you forgotten that time you and your fiance wanted to go down to Acapulco for the week. Who did you ask to sub for you?"
"You." Jill said in a small voice.
"And who didn't even take a dime for subbing for you?"
"You." She said in the same small voice.
"And what do you think would happen if Michael Eisner somehow found out just who that 'Jillian' was who gave the customers the best tours anyone ever had of the Haunted Mansion? As I recall it you were named 'Employee of the Month' for that. And I do believe that award was the half a brownie point that got you your present job."
"Toni. That's blackmail."
"I prefer to think of it as creative persuasion. Now. Do I get the Coach, or does Unca Michael get an E-mail?
Jill rolled her eyes. "You win. When do you want it?"
"Let's see. If I use one of the spares, and I know there's at least three here at all times, I can pick it up in the early evening. Say around 7:00. The ceremony isn't until 9:00, so that leaves plenty time to do what I have to do. I suppose you want it back by midnight."
"Midnight? Of course. It is Cinderella's coach, after all."
"Now, about the horses … "
"Toni ... Don't push your luck."
**********
Nick stared at the paper. He turned even paler than he usually was. He knew this man. He knew him well.
"What's the problem? You look like you seen a ghost. You know him?" Mike asked.
Nick was already on his way to Captain Davies's office.
By the time Mike caught up with him, Nick was arguing with their supervisor.
"You don't understand." Nick practically shouted. "I've got to go to Nevada. This man is the killer. I know it. And I've got to bring him back."
"Okay." Jerry Davies said.
"I know that the Nevada police are competent and all that, but I want to be there, too."
"I said okay." Davies repeated.
"But we should … What did you say?"
"I said it's all set. The Commander of the LasVegas unit called about an hour ago and said that he wanted someone from this office there while they are conducting the investigation. They know the Nevada laws, but they want to be sure that all the T's are crossed and all the I's are dotted here in California, too. I was going to send you and Taylor anyway, since you are the investigating officers. You can leave whenever you're ready."
**********
Four hours later, Nick pulled the Caddy into the parking lot of the Nevada Highway Patrol outpost in Las Vegas. He reached over and gently shook Mike awake. They had driven all night and it was almost 6:30, but there was enough time to put on a courtesy call to the police before they had to return to the motel for the day.
"Sorry about that." Mike said as he yawned and stretched. "Long car rides make me sleepy as all get out. It goes back to when I was a baby. When I was fussy, my parents would take me for a ride. It never failed to calm me and by the time they got home, I was fast asleep. I guess I never outgrew it."
"That's all right. You didn't miss anything. All that's out there is miles and miles of miles and miles." He reached into the cooler on the back seat and took out a can of Red Deer. He handed Mike a thermos filled with Starbucks. "This should perk you up. It always worked with Tracy." They had stopped at their respective homes before hitting the interstate to let their wives know where they would be.
At the door to the offices, a large beefy black man was waiting. He reminded Nick of Captain Joe Reese in Toronto. As he saw the two, he broke into a wide grin. "You must be the two from LA." He said, extending a hand to them. I'm Commander Sam Carver."
"Detective Sergeant Nick Knight." Nick said, shaking the Commander's hand. "And this is my partner, Detective Mike Taylor."
"Sergeant Knight. Detective Taylor." Carver acknowledged.
"Commander. I don't want to sound insubordinate." Mike said. "But the only time we're called by our titles is when we are about to get a dressing down. If it's all right with you, we'd prefer Nick and Mike."
"I can go along with that. Around here, at least on the night shift, we're pretty informal."
"So, Commander." Nick asked as the Commander showed them around the office. "What is the latest word on our killer?"
"So far, nothing positive. We've got an APB out to all the hospitals, doctor's offices and anywhere else he might have gone for treatment. Based on the white cell count in the blood smears we took from the car, he has to have a pretty bad infection. According to our Medical Forensics expert, he's going to need medical treatment. And he's going to need it very soon if he wants to live much longer."
"Commander." One of the officers called. "If those are the guys from Los Angeles, I think you had better take the call on line 3."
Sam Carver motioned the two into his office. He picked up the phone. A few moments later, he held up his hand in a thumbs up gesture.
"We may have our man." Carver said. "That was Doctor Julian Hubbard over in Paradise. The Doctor says a man who matched the composite in the APB came in to be treated for infected cut wounds on his left hand and arm two days ago. You want to go with me to talk to him?"
Nick was at the door before the Commander stopped talking. It would mean that he would have to ride in the trunk back to the motel, but he wouldn't miss this for anything.
**********
The sign in the front yard of the neat-as-a-pin doctor's office read J. A. Hubbard MD. The house looked like it should be in a small New England village, not in the suburb of the gambling capital of North America. It was a white clapboard story and a half with the obligatory white picket fence. It probably was the doctor's residence as well. The one side had an addition to accommodate the examination rooms. The only thing missing was the puppy and the child's bicycle, and it could have been the prototype for a Norman Rockwell painting. Nick pulled the Caddy as close to the door as he could and quickly dashed for the shade on the porch. As luck would have it, the front of the building faced north. A loud barking was heard from the back. There was the dog. Now for the kid. Sure enough, a boy of eight or nine opened the door for them.
"You look a little young to be the doctor." Carver said, grinning.
"I'm not the doctor." The boy said seriously. "I'm only here until the school bus picks me up. Just a minute." He ran into the back room at lightning speed. "Have a seat." He motioned to one of the chairs in the waiting room.
A few minutes later, a pleasant looking woman with long auburn hair came out of the examining area. For a split second, Nick had the impression of Natalie Lambert. When she got closer, though, he could see that the woman looked nothing like the Coroner. She held out her hand. "I'm Doctor Hubbard." She said. Her voice was low, almost mannish.
"But the man on the phone said that his name was Dr. Julian Hubbard." Commander Carver said.
Doctor Hubbard smiled. "Everyone makes that mistake. Of course my parents didn't help matters when the named me, either. My name is Julie Ann. Not Julian."
"Timmy!" She yelled at the boy as he opened the jar of tongue depressors and began to stack them in what resembled a fort. "Put them back. You know you aren't allowed in here. Now go and play in the waiting room until the bus comes."
"Aw, Mom." The boy groused as he did as he was told. "I've already played with all the toys out there a zillion times. Besides, they used to be mine once upon a time. Remember."
"Timothy Joshua Hubbard … " She pointed sternly to the door.
"Yes. Mother." The boy hung his head and slowly shuffled to the waiting room.
"Sometimes he can be a pain in the butt, but he is a really nice boy. Since his father died I've had to raise him by myself. It really has given me insight to many of my patients' problems." She went to her desk and turned on her computer. "This isn't my day." She said as she opened a program. "First, my babysitter calls in sick. Then, a few minutes ago, my nurse called. Her car broke down and she won't be in until later this afternoon." She typed in a few commands, and the monitor emitted a loud beep. The message on the screen indicated that there was a fatal error loading the file. "DAMN!" She said as she rebooted the computer. "I can do complex diagnostic procedures with my eyes closed, but I can't get my computer to open my files." She hit the side of the monitor with her hand.
"Let me, Mom." Timmy said as he came into the office.
"Timothy. Out. What did I tell you?" She pointed to the door.
"But you're doing it all wrong. I've watched Lisa do it hundreds of times." He pulled himself into the chair and began typing. In a few seconds, the welcoming screen appeared.
"Okay, young man. You were right about that. But how good are you at calculating the correct dosage to combat strep throat?"
"That's easy." The boy said. He typed a few more commands, and a calculator popped up. "All you do multiply the body weight by the milligrams per pound. That will give you the proper dosage." He grinned proudly at his mother.
Nick smiled broadly. "I think I should introduce your son to my twins. They're ten. My daughter wants to be a doctor and my oldest son already writes complex computer programs for the fun of it. The three of them would get along fabulously." He smiled again as he tousled the boy's hair.
A horn blew several times from the street. "Gotta go. There's the bus now." Timmy said as he wriggled off the chair and headed for the door.
"I know you didn't come here to talk about our respective children. As I told you over the phone, I recognized the man on the flyer that I got yesterday as a patient I treated a few days ago." She said as she began typing. "He was pretty bad off then, and if he hasn't followed my advice … which I doubt that he did … he didn't seem to be the kind of guy who would do that … he probably is very sick right about now, if not dying."
"Oh, yes, here it is." She said as a patient file came on the screen. She clicked on 'print', and the printer came to life. Seconds later, she handed the printout to Commander Carver. "I should have been suspicious right from the start. It's not that often that people from that part of town come all the way over here for treatment."
"What do you mean?" Mike asked the doctor.
"His address." Carver elaborated. "The Saint Francis Hotel. Not exactly one of Las Vegas's five star establishments, if you know what I mean."
The phone rang and Julie Hubbard answered. "Yes, He's right here." She handed the phone to Sam Carver. "It's your office."
Sam listened to the officer on the other end. "Thanks. Tell them to keep a close eye on him. We'll be there in about … " He checked his watch. " … Forty five minutes." He hung up the phone and turned to the two detectives. "Seems like this is our day for miracles. University Medical just admitted a Joseph Smith who matches our killer. Let's go. You can ride with me if you want."
"We'll follow you Commander, if that's okay." Nick said." I have a severe sun allergy. Even a little of that desert sun would literally fry me to a piece of charcoal in a matter of minutes." He handed Mike the keys to the caddy. "You drive. I'll ride in the usual place."
"And where would that be?" Doctor Hubbard asked.
"In the trunk." Nick said with a wide grin. "Where else?"
**********
Nick pulled the blanket off his head and folded it. Several people in the hospital lobby looked suspiciously at him. Even though he was covered, the short distance from the south facing entrance to the door had reddened and blistered the skin on his face and hands.
A candy striper came to him. "I think you wanted the Emergency room entrance. It's around back. If you'll follow me … " She touched his arm to lead him toward the hallway.
Nick winced, but only stared deeply into the girl's eyes. "I do not need to go to the Emergency room. It is only a mild sunburn." He held out his hand, which by now was almost healed. "Thank you for your concern. Now, continue with whatever you were going to do."
"Mild sunburn … " The girl repeated as she started to leave the lobby. "You're welcome, sir."
"You have to teach me that." Mike said as they started for the information desk.
"I've told you before. You can't afford those lessons." Nick said with a sad smile.
**********
'Joseph Smith' was hardly noticeable amid the monitors, IV's, and other paraphernalia that surrounded his bed. His left arm was raised and heavily bandaged in wet wraps.
"Can we talk to him?" Mike asked the nurse.
"You can try, but he delirious from the fever." She replied. "Been that way since the Emergency Squad brought him in. The clerk at the St. Francis found him semi conscious and unresponsive in his room and called 911. Most of the time, he babbles, but every once in a while, he says something almost intelligible." She sighed heavily. "But even that doesn't make much sense. Something about robins and God."
"I think it would be better if I question him." Nick said to his partner.
"But you … " Commander Carver started to say.
"I have seen him get information when no one else could." Mike said, guiding the Commander to the corner of the room. From there, he knew they would be able to hear everything, but they wouldn't interfere with Nick's powers of concentration.
Nick leaned into the feverish face. "Jack. Jack Parker." He whispered too softly for the others to hear.
The man slowly opened his eyes.
"You are dying. You want to make a full confession before you die. Don't you?" He said, staring intently into his father in law's eyes. "You killed the guard and robbed the museum, didn't you?"
Jack nodded almost imperceptibly. "Yes ... Full Confession … I killed him."
"Why?"
"Needed the money … He said he'd pay me good …" He whispered hoarsely. " … She was my wife … If I couldn't have her … no one would … Couldn't let … her marry … that guy … Had to stop them … Needed money to … do that." Suddenly, his face became calm and almost serene. "At least that was … the reason … when I came out here ... I've had a lot … of time … think about that … since ..." He took as deep a breath as he could and coughed noisily. Even without the equipment, Nick could tell that Jack's lungs were full of fluid. Not good. "I've been … screw up all my life … haven't I?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued. " You think … if I do … something worthwhile … it will make a … difference when I … when I meet … HIM? If what they … say is true … that ain't going to … be too much longer."
Nick buried his head in his hands. That was a question he asked himself nearly every day. Did anything make a difference? He hoped that the answer was yes. For Jack's sake … and for his. "What are you going to do?" He finally asked.
"Nothing. I'm gonna … let her go. We divorced … in 1980 … she's moved on … with her life ... I got no claim … on her or the kids." He pointed to the nightstand. There were three envelopes on it. "I wrote those … yesterday." He said barely above a whisper. "Do me a … favor. When I'm … when I … Give them to Robyn and the kids."
Nick picked up the envelopes. One was addressed to Robyn. One was to Toni and one to Sheryl. He put them in his pocket. "Just one more question. Where is the statue?"
"I gave it … to him ... He said he … had a buyer for it."
"Who is he? Who is the man you gave the statue to?"
"I don't know." His eyes glazed over. "Bless me, Father for I have sinned … " He intoned. He made an awkward sign of the cross.
Nick looked away. The sign did not bother him. In fact, he could occasionally make it on himself with no ill effects. The last thing he needed to hear was Jack Parker's final confession.
Commander Carver left the room and returned a few minutes later with the hospital Chaplain.
Nick and the others left the room as the Chaplain began praying over the dying man. They had what they needed. Parker had robbed the museum and killed the guard. A deathbed confession would hold up in court. They could close this one. Only one thing still nagged at the back of Nick's mind. < Where was Orpesius? >
**********
"So." Mike said as they drove back. "Joseph Smith … aka as Jack Parker … is your father in law. Is that why you didn't arrest him?"
Nick had spent the time on the road filling Mike in on his last meeting with Parker shortly before his wedding to Toni. Mike, because of his encounter with the vampire Alexandria earlier, he had been left out of the scenario that had been played out for Jack's benefit at the After Sunset.
They had spent the rest of the day at the Moonlight Motel. From the outside, it looked like something that was one step away from a wrecking ball. Inside, in the 'sub-basement area', however … it was a mega resort that rivaled any of the ones on the Strip. Only this one was for vampires only. Drake's Guide gave it five plus stars.
"Not exactly. While that's true, at this point only you and I know exactly who Joseph Smith really is. I didn't arrest him because he is dying. According to the doctor, he is in the last stages of Systemic Septicemia. The infection from his hand is all through his body and it's only a matter of hours before it reaches his brain. If he's lucky, he might last the night." Nick let out a deep sigh. "What good would it do to charge him with murder?"
"So, what will you put in your report? That Jack Parker committed the murders?"
"As far as anyone knows, Joseph Smith committed those crimes, and that's what I'm going to report. I'm not going to reveal that Jack Parker and Joseph Smith are the same person. Not just yet. Robyn and LaCroix are going to be married soon. I don't want anything to spoil that. They both have had enough problems. They don't need this on top of everything else."
**********
"Mr. LaCroix." The voice on the other end of the phone line said. "I understand you are interested in a certain statue that was unearthed at Pompeii."
<Who would DARE disturb me this close to dawn! > "Who is this?" Lucien LaCroix asked angrily. The voice was vaguely familiar. He had heard it recently, but he couldn't place it.
"Let's just say that I can obtain what you are seeking. For a price, of course."
"What makes you think you have anything I would want?"
"I have a statue of a certain household god. It is about ten inches high. He holds an olive branch in one hand and a sword in the other. The inscription 'Sono protetti' (They are protected) is inscribed on the base."
"How much?" It was Orpesius. He was positive. Exccept for the brief time at the museum, he had not seen the statue in almost two thousand years. He still could picture every detail in his mind as though it were yesterday.
"Twenty thousand. Fifty and hundreds. Used bills. No consecutive numbers. Be at the bus stop at Cordell and Vine at 10:30 tonight. You will receive further instructions then. I do not have to tell you to come alone."
"And if I do not do as you say?"
"The statue will disappear for another two thousand years." There was only the dial tone.
"What are you going to do?" Robyn asked. "Are you going to pay him?" With her enhanced hearing, she had heard both sides of the conversation.
"Of course not. Why should I pay for something that is already mine?" His smile reminded Robyn of a crocodile ready to strike. "I take what I want."
"I wish I could come with you."
"No. He said to come alone." He said coldly. "I shall do this myself." Then, his expression softening. "There is something that you can do for me, though." He softly ran the tips of his fingers along the cleft between her shoulder and neck.
"And what is that?" Her hands lightly brushed through his hair. She loved the way his buzz cut tickled her palms.
"We have to think of something to pass the time until it is time to meet my mysterious caller." He gently touched the fine hairs along the crest of her ear.
A shiver ran through her body. "I'm certain we can think of something to fill the hours." She toyed with the fine hairs peeking above the open collar of his shirt. At least he was no longer wearing those hideous black nehru shirts any more. She took a small delight that she had been the one to break him of that disgusting habit.
He smiled a wickedly erotic grin. "I'm sure we can." He took her hand and led her toward the bedroom.
**********
"What do you mean you didn't arrest him?" Captain Jerry Davies yelled at the duo standing in his office. Inspector Ganlon stood behind them, frowning. "What kind of nincompoops are you two, anyway? You just said he was the killer. You just left him in Las Vegas? Do you have mashed potatoes for brains?"
"Cap. Inspector. Let me explain." Nick said softly. "We didn't arrest and extradite him because it was too dangerous."
"Too dangerous? For who? You two are the cream of my crop. Surely you could handle one itsy bitsy little prisoner." Inspector Ganlon added. He put his head squarely in Mike's line of vision. It was an old boot camp trick, guaranteed to put fear into the recruits. It still worked. "And if you couldn't handle him, I'm certain that the Nevada Highway Patrol would have been glad to offer you some assistance." The veins in his neck were reddening, almost the same color as his face. "You know the Commissioner wants this case wrapped up and sealed with neat little bows ASAP."
"I know, Inspector." Mike said, swallowing noticeably. "It wasn't too dangerous for us. It's too dangerous for … Smith. He's dying. According to the doctors, he has maybe 24 to 48 hours to live. We have a deathbed confession witnessed by Commander Carver and myself and Nick, and notarized by the hospital legal officer." He held up the document. "That will stand up in court."
"Commander Carver does have a guard posted outside his room, just in case … " Nick added
"I guess you're right. That's really all we need. For all practical purposes, this case is solved." Ganlon said, his expression softening. "But I'd feel a heaping helluva lot better if we habeased the corpus."
**********
LaCroix stood on the corner. It was after 10:30 and no one had approached him. He was almost convinced that this was going to be a bust. A drunk bumped forcibly into him, pushing him into the traffic pole. If it weren't for the fact that they were in a busy intersection, the vampire would have drained the obnoxious, foul smelling man. As he started to stagger away, he pressed something into LaCroix's hand. LaCroix grabbed him and turned him around. He stared at him with yellowed eyes, and let his fangs drop just until they were visible. The look of fear on the drunk's face was nearly palpable.
"I … I didn't do nothing." He fairly screamed. "That guy … He gave me a twenty to do that." The man pointed to a doorway. There was no one there. "Honest. I didn't do nothin' "
LaCroix pushed the man into the pole. As soon as he had lessened his grip, the man took off running.
He opened the note. 'So far so good.' It was printed in block letters. 'Take the Burbank bus. Get off at Olive. Wait at the telephone booth.'
The Burbank bus was almost empty at this time of night. Only the driver and five passengers. He paid the fare and took a seat near the door.
"Lucien LaCroix." A man's voice behind him said. That seat had been empty only a few moments ago. It was the same voice that was on the telephone. "Do not turn around."
"I thought you were going to meet me at Olive Street."
"I changed the plans. Just to be on the safe side. Do you have the money?"
"Do you have the statue?"
"Very good. I see we do not trust each other. I will enjoy doing business with you. Get off at the next stop. Do not turn around until then. If you do, the statue will disappear." He reached up and pulled the cord. "Be at the parking lot across the street from Universal Studios at 1:30. Bring the money. I will have the statue. Again. Come alone."
As he exited the bus, LaCroix glanced at the seat where he had been sitting. It was empty.
**********
He stood by the parking lot entrance. The person had picked an excellent spot for the meeting. While the lot for the studio was brightly lit and no doubt contained a myriad of surveillance cameras, this one was little more than a dark and deserted gravel paved empty lot. It didn't matter to Lucien. With his eyesight, it was as bright, if not brighter than the lot across the street. He hefted the briefcase. Needless to say, it wasn't heavy, although it did contain the money as the man had requested. He would give it to him in exchange for Orpesius. That much was true. Of course, how long the man would keep it was open to speculation. At this point, fifteen minutes was a good estimate.
He heard him long before he saw him. The heartbeat was the same as the one he had memorized on the bus. Again, there was the impression that he knew this man. From somewhere …< but where? >
The man entered the lot. He wore a cap pulled over his eyes. To a mortal's gaze, his face was shrouded in shadows. The vampire however, could see every feature plainly. A small smirk stole its way across the elder's face. He should have known. This was the only person who was in a position to do what he had done and get away with it.
"Aloysius Haggerman." Lucien LaCroix said with a certain degree of satisfaction in his voice. Revenge just became geometrically sweeter. "You would have to be the only one who could be able to pull this off."
The look on Haggerman's face was one of surprise and fear. He had not counted on LaCroix recognizing him. He had deliberately stayed in the shadows and covered his features with the baseball cap. < What if he went to the police? No. He couldn't do that. Not without revealing his own part in the crime.> By buying the statue, he would be in the same boat as he was. He was right. They were two peas in a pod. With that thought, he smiled faintly. "Yes. And there are many more things I can do for you. I am sure that our continued alliance will be a most enjoyable venture for both of us." He held out an ornate wooden box. "I have the statue. Do you have the money?'
< Obnoxious grubby little earthworm. What makes you think I would ever do business with the likes of you? > "Yes. It is right here." He held out the briefcase. As if they were two enemy combatants, each put their free hand on the others bundle. On some unspoken command, they released their packages and on another tacit directive, each took several steps backward.
Haggerman opened the briefcase. Even in the dark, LaCroix could see his eyes fairly glow at the sight of the money. < Greedy good for nothing little pit viper. That's all you care about. The money. >
He opened the box and let out a satisfied breath. Orpesius was there, swathed in packing foam. This was what was important. This was what mattered. To have him back was worth the money. < Of course, twenty thousand was a fair piece of change … >
"If there is anything I can do for you … " Haggerman said as he started to leave the parking lot.
"As a matter of fact, there is." LaCroix said.
For a brief second, it appeared to Haggerman that his eyesight was playing tricks on him. It appeared as though LaCroix's eyes were glowing and his canine teeth had elongated. Just for a brief second …
**********
Lucien LaCroix sat the wooden box on the table. Beside it, he placed the briefcase. He almost reverently opened the box and took out the statue.
"Robyn." He said softly. "I want you to meet Orpesius."
Robyn smiled and nodded in the direction of the small god. "I am pleased to meet you, Orpesius. Welcome to our house." She said. It was difficult for Lucien to say whether she was teasing or sincere. He chose to believe the latter. "Lucien. The briefcase." She said. "Does it still have the money in it?"
"Of course. As I said before. I do not pay for things that are rightfully mine." He opened the case, revealing the twenty thousand dollars still intact. "I think Orpesius would like it if he were on the bookshelf in the bedroom. Right next to the book on Pompeii that you gave me last year."
"But what about the thief?" A look of worry crossed her face. "You didn't … " She opened her mouth and tapped her teeth.
Lucien smiled wickedly. "I do not know what came over me. Perhaps you are having a detrimental effect on me. Or perhaps I am getting soft headed in my old age. In a fit of uncharacteristic altruism, I let the man go." The smile turned into a grin. "But not before … how do you say it … scaring the piss out of him. Literally. Oh, I did take a tiny taste. Just enough to know that he has been involved in numerous disappearances of museum property over the years. I also planted a suggestion that he rid himself of his guilt for his actions to the … ah … user friendly people … at the police station. I assume that the detectives in Robbery Division are getting quite an earful right about now."
**********
Mike hung up the phone. "Nick. You're not gonna believe this. That was Angie Roberson over in Robbery. They've got a guy down there spilling his guts out about a series of unsolved thefts and missing items from the Museum Of Natural History over the past ten years. I mean the guy's giving names, dates, items taken … the whole nine yards. And get this. His name …. Aloysius Haggerman, the curator."
"In that case, let's get down there ASAP." Nick picked up his coat from the back of his chair and followed his partner out of the squadroom.
**********
Robyn smiled broadly and hugged her soon to be husband. "I knew you could be a pussycat when you wanted to be." She kissed his cheek
"PUSSYCAT, AM I?" He picked her up and almost literally threw her over his shoulder. "I'll show you who is a pussycat. I'll have you know I'm a genuine, fang bearing, roaring Bengal Tiger." He started for the bedroom with the protesting fledgling pounding his back.
"Lucien LaCroix!" She yelled. "Put me down this instant!"
"As they say … No way, Jose." He mock slapped her behind. "I'm going to torture you until you say uncle ... " He had a difficult time talking through the laughter.
"You know this is war." She retorted as he gently threw her onto the bed.
"Very well, then. Into the battle!" He cried as he leapt on the bed. The sound of the bed supports cracking echoed through the bedroom.
She dodged just as he was about to land on top of her. "Oh, yeah! And may the best vampire win!" She raked her nails through his shirt, opening tiny rivulets of blood on his chest.
As the sun disappeared beneath the waves of the Pacific, they watched the myriad of colors play across the sky. The room was a shambles. Most of the furniture had been overturned as they chased each other around the room. The mattress was half on the floor and the covers were balled up and in the corner after Robyn had tried to use the spread as a net to capture him. He had retaliated by tickling her unmercifully. As soon as she was able, she hit him with the picture that had hung above the desk. He knew that Robyn hated it, and it was not one of his favorites, either. It could easily be replaced by something more amenable. They fenced with the shattered pieces of the bed frame, each half heartedly trying to stake the other. That ended in a draw when the 'stakes' were reduced to little more than toothpicks.
He ran his finger down the front of her nose. He could tell it was almost healed. Fortunately, there would not even be a scar. He had tripped her and she ran headlong into the bookcase. He felt bad about that, but she deserved it after she had doused him with a bucket of ice cold water from the bathroom.
With the dawn, the fury of the night's activities caught up with them. They collapsed in each other's arms on the floor. Their lovemaking was as ardent as their night's activities. Hours later, they finally fell into an exhausted sleep. In the only spot uncluttered enough to accommodate them.
She kissed the rapidly disappearing bruise on his cheek. He had zigged when he should have zagged and she had connected with a roundhouse right that snapped his cheekbone. "Are you ready to concede defeat?" She asked.
"Are you?"
"Uncle." She whispered.
He answered her with a deep resonating purring sound.
Precariously perched on the bookcase, Orpesius watched the two below him. If you looked very carefully, you could almost see a smile on the tiny god's face.
**********