by J M Guillen
I have professionals at my disposal. I glanced around at the richly appointed walls, stunned.
“Here is a listing of all physical assets and real property currently owned by Aiden Shepherd.” He slid a short list across his desk to me. “As you can see, when it comes to tangible assets, the list is quite short.”
“That’s about what I would expect.” I glanced at the paper and noted that most of the items were inside Knucklebones. “I just never expected to inherit his things so soon.” Tears brimmed in my eyes. First Mom and now him too?
The thought hit like a physical blow.
“Elizabeth.” His low, caring tone surprised me. “Take a deep breath. Keep hold of yourself. You are understandably concerned for your father’s welfare. That’s perfectly natural as a doting daughter.”
“Right.” I sat in the chair, stiff as a rod.
“You have no proof that he is in any danger at all. Let your breath out. Calm. Stay calm. Don’t let your emotions get the better of you. If you do, disaster follows, does it not?”
Did he glance at the bracelet on my arm as he said the last? I thought perhaps he did.
“Of course.” I took a breath. Then another.
“I never said your father was dead. Aiden is a very careful man. He simply told me, should he be detained, you might seek my counsel. In that instance, I was to pass control of his holdings to you.”
“Okay.” I nodded and tried to relax. He’s not dead.
“Onto the matter of more liquid assets. The papers here outline your father’s various investments and holdings.” He set his hand on a stack of papers. “I advise allowing me to review them with you at another time.”
“I suppose.” I found my gaze drawn to the small stack. How much money could Dad possibly have in there? He owned a gaming store. That wasn’t exactly big ticket money.
“The checking accounts are something we should discuss now, however. They only await your appearance at the Bank of Yorke to be accessed.”
“My name’s already on them?”
“There is a small amount of paperwork to accompany the transfer.” He smiled. “Fortunately, that paperwork requires only your signature.” He slid a form across the desk.
To my naked eye, it was a lot of legalese mumbo jumbo, but after a moment’s perusal, I got the gist.
Serin flipped to the next page and there, at the bottom, lay my father’s looping signature.
I couldn’t help but tear up as I saw it. I blinked and then added my scrawl to the document.
“I’ll send this by courier to the Bank of Yorke by day’s end.” He nodded. “In the meantime, Mr. Shepherd left me with an active copy of the ATM card. He claimed you would know the PIN, but if not, it’s in the paperwork.”
“No. I know it.” I felt certain it would be my birth year.
“Now, Elizabeth—”
“Liz.”
“Ms. Shepherd, the funds in this account are yours to access. You will find, however, that the bulk of your assets rest within the business accounts of Knucklebones, Inc. This is a wise move on your father’s part, as there are different laws for a corporation than there are for an individual.”
“I see.”
“As the owner of the corporation, you have to keep records of your expenditures. For instance, this money cannot buy you a new dress, but it can provide a budget for a valued employee to acquire appropriate work attire. You may not buy yourself a new BMW, but it is certainly reasonable to decide that Knucklebones requires a company car, to be driven only by employees.”
“A company car?” I furrowed my brow. “Okay, this is crazy. Exactly how much is in the Knucklebones account?”
“Well…” Mr. Serin flipped through a few papers. “At creation two months ago, it had a balance in excess of seven hundred thousand dollars.” He nodded. “Your father felt this should be more than adequate to see to any needs you may currently have.”
“He…” My mouth was agape. “What now?”
“Is there a problem?”
“Um, yes.” I reeled. “Seven hundred thousand… dollars?” I sank back in my chair. “That’s in dollars?”
“Yes, Ms. Shepherd,” Mr. Serin drolled. “United States dollars.”
After everything, this was the final match to the boiling bucket of gasoline I tried to keep under control.
There’s no way he had that much money. I shook my head, completely blown away.
What mess had my father gotten into?
“Shall I continue?”
“N-no.” I stammered. “Where did he get that kind of money?” My mind whirled with questions as soon as the words left my mouth.
“Ms. Shepherd, I’m afraid—”
“Is…” I leaned closer. “Is it illegal? Is that why my dad has gone missing?”
“I can assure you—”
“Hang on. Two months ago? These accounts were created two months ago?”
“Yes, Ms. Shepherd. He’s been planning for some time now. The last time I spoke with your father, he expressed readiness to put some of his plans into action.”
“What plans are those?” I leaned even closer, a touch of fire in my tone.
“I am certain I do not know. He seemed quite agitated, and concerned for your welfare in the event of his disappearance. Together we came up with this arrangement as the best solution to his problem.”
“The best solution to his problem,” I echoed, temper rising. “His problem? His problem is that he’s mysteriously wealthy, and now missing! What do you propose is the best solution to that?”
“Roll diplomacy/social interaction, Liz.” I could almost hear Rehl’s voice.
“Easy,” I crowed, tossed my dice, and looked at the result. “One!”
“Ms. Shepherd, it is not my place to keep track of my client’s whereabouts at all times.” Serin remarked coolly.
“Look,” I snarled and shot to my feet. “I don’t care—”
“Liz,” he growled, his low voice like the purr of a great cat.
“If you think—” I waved an arm at him.
Reality exploded from my arm in shimmering turquoise and sapphire.
Thunder burst around us, deafening. It rumbled through Serin’s desk and his Tiffany lamp fell to the floor, its glass shattered. Books toppled from the shelves.
A sharp explosion of savage Wind burst into the room and caused his windows to rattle. A door slammed loudly. Serin’s papers flew wildly from his desk and drifted to the floor.
I froze in place, realizing what I had done.
On my wrist, the bracelet Simon had given me buzzed like an angry hornet before quieting into a soft, eldritch song.
“Um.” Aghast, I struggled to say something coherent. “I didn’t mean to! The th-thing is—”
“Sit,” Serin commanded, his eyes like wrought iron.
“Okay.” I sat, my left hand covering my right wrist. It’s the damn bracelet. Simon had told me it would give me a stat bump, but I hadn’t expected anything like this!
Serin stepped over to his windows and gazed down to the street.
Who is he looking for? The moment I had the thought, an idea popped into my head. Surely not the Silent Gentlemen… right?
He watched for a long moment before the tension melted from his shoulders.
“Well.” He shook his head. “No real harm, I suppose.”
“I’m sorry,” I muttered.
“I know.” He gave a brief smile. “You just lost your head. That can be dangerous for individuals such as us.”
Wait.
I stared.
“What do you mean, ‘us’?”
Serin said nothing. Instead, he reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled out a small, silver pendant.
A pendant with a stylized blue eye at its center.
The Aegis of Dudael.
“What.” It wasn’t even a question. I glanced down at my bracelet and shook my head. “Does everyone have one of those things now?”
“
Hardly.” He smiled. “I take it you know what you’re wearing?”
“Yeah.” I stared at the icon and remembered the first time I’d ever seen the eye after Simon’s lesson on the Silent Gentlemen. “I thought so, anyway.”
“Your control will have to be impeccable while you are learning, Elizabeth.” He smiled. “Especially when you wear the Sign. Otherwise, it will not shelter you as it should.”
“I was informed.” I sighed. “I suppose I just wasn’t as impeccable as possible.”
“I can agree with that.” He chuckled.
“But…” My head spun as I tried to connect all the dots. My dad… the shop… What did Simon have to do with this man? “You gotta spill.” I frowned and sank back into my chair. “What do you know that you aren’t saying?”
“A great many things.” He barked a laugh. “But one step at a time.”
“You’re… clever?” I’d used the wrong word, I knew it the moment I said it. “I mean, you’re saying that you’re… talented?”
“Indeed…” He touched his pendant, and the bracelet tingled on my wrist.
His words may have trailed off but his voice did not. It plunged from a pleasantly low tone into a rolling basso growl a Tyrannosaurus would have envied.
The light level faded away, and everything in the room became faint and indistinct except for him.
I blinked, completely caught by surprise. Mr. Serin… shone. A sourceless light appeared around him, a nimbus of warmth and radiant goodness. He glowed like an avatar of the sun itself.
“Wow,” I gulped.
“We are alike, Ms. Shepherd.” The room began to tremble as if in awe of the creature in front of me. His bass voice licked around my spine in a far too pleasant manner, and the sibilance slid around my head in an avalanche of echoes.
“I, uh… Whoo!” I gasped for breath. “Bet you’re fun at parties!”
He chuckled. “We wield influence. This is the only power that matters.”
“Influence?”
“Influence grants us choice, Elizabeth.” Serin smiled. “We have far more choices than the average person.”
Then, as if a cloud passed before the sun, the light levels returned to normal. Mr. Serin no longer glowed; the room remained rock steady.
“Now I have a billion more questions.” I raised an eyebrow. “Sooo… where should we start?”
“Not with any of that.” Serin nodded toward the paperwork. “We have business to discuss.”
“You can’t play dumb now!” I sat back and crossed my arms. “Obviously you know a little bit about a little bit.”
He stepped over to the window and again glanced downward. After a moment, he turned back to me.
“Ms. Shepherd, I’m certain you have more than one thing on your mind right now. I seem like a good source of information. And you are correct in that assessment. However, I am also an expensive source of information.”
“So?” I shrugged one shoulder. “You just told me I have over seven hundred thousand dollars. What do I care how much you charge?”
“A valid point. However, there are two things to consider.”
“Okay.”
“First.” He plunked out one thick finger. “Those funds belong to Knucklebones, Inc. As your business manager and adviser, I advise against paying $750.00 per hour so that I can answer a few questions.”
“Per hour?” I gasped.
“Second, your father set up my retainer to cover very specific business and legal activities. He did not provide those funds for you to simply to hand them over to me for other matters. That’s hardly good stewardship, would you not agree?” He weighted his words oddly.
I found myself nodding at his good sense before I knew it.
Hey. I blinked. Had he just pulled something on me?
“Aside from that, Aiden provided you quite a lot of instruction back at Knucklebones. You should peruse it, and then you may come to me with more complex concerns.”
“Instruction at Knucklebones? What instruction?”
“I understood you had been in the upstairs portion of the business. Did you not take possession of his notes?”
“I mean, I found his desk.”
“Books, Ms. Shepherd. Hundreds of them.”
“The books?” I wrinkled my nose. “Stupid stuff. Old tax ledgers and city planning stuff.”
“Look again.” Serin smiled. “You will want to peruse them at length. They have basic information you should find most useful.”
I thought back to the rows of bookshelves and how they seemed to stretch out forever.
“If so… that’s more than a little basic instruction,” I breathed.
“I’m sure. I understand Aiden has quite the fascination with… odd happenings. He holds an extensive library of research materials.”
I clung to the hope that I wouldn’t have to read every little page in the place before finding out what happened.
“Regarding this, your father left something else in my possession.”
“Yeah?” I leaned forward.
“Mr. Shepherd indicated you were an inquisitive young woman. He seemed to think that you might wish to ask me,” he raised one eyebrow and shifted his tone upward, mimicking a feminine voice, “a billion questions.”
“Sounds like me,” I grinned.
“He left this for you as well.” Mr. Serin reached into a drawer and pulled out a small bag.
I reached out as he set it on the table, then pulled the drawstring open. Inside lay a small, leather-bound book tied with a strap. I pulled it out then noticed something else in the bag.
A box? I examined it.
A metal and wood cube, a different symbol engraved in the center of each face.
Weird.
“He indicated these items would assist you.”
“What’s in it?” I asked lifting the small book out.
“I literally cannot say.” He gave me a tight smile.
I untied the straps.
The moment I opened it, I had to fight down a laugh. Of course he couldn’t say. I slid the items back in their bag and placed them in the oversized front pocket of my hoodie.
“We have a lot of work ahead of us, Ms. Shepherd, but we have covered the intended basics of our first meeting.” He nodded at the papers and the active ATM card between us. “You have what you require. If you like, we can set up an appointment in a few days to discuss some of the more pressing business regarding the store.”
“Pressing?” I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Your father left a sample employee schedule, if you wish to peruse it before hiring.”
“Hiring employees?” I raised one eyebrow. I had a couple of candidates in mind.
“Indeed. Also, you might consider traveling to conventions and the like to advertise the store.”
“Cons? As part of my job?” Despite all the strangeness, the idea sounded wonderful.
“Among other things. For now, you should consider how you want to handle daily operations. There are currently no other employees, and the store’s operating hours are somewhat sporadic.”
“Mr. Serin, you said you don’t know where Dad is, and I get that.” I kept my tone measured. “But you guys set all this up two months ago. Surely you know something about why he did it?”
“No.” He shook his head slowly. “I do not question my clients. It’s easier to protect them that way.”
“Protect, not defend?”
“I protect my clients, Ms. Shepherd. It’s a dangerous world we live in, as you might have noticed. Special individuals need special care.”
Oh we’re special, alright, I didn’t quip. I opted for a different angle.
“My thought is that maybe you know more than you think you do, Mr. Serin.”
He cocked his head.
“Like… like Knucklebones! You seem to be familiar with the upstairs portion. Did Dad really live there? What happened to his apartment? Did someone make him move?”
“All I know abou
t Mr. Shepherd’s living arrangements is that he listed his residence as an apartment above Knucklebones when he put my services on retainer, shortly before we created the accounts you and I discussed.”
“Right.” I nodded, unsurprised.
“Liz, take heart.”
I looked up.
“Your father provided for you specifically for this instance. He did not come to it unaware. He seemed very prepared. In advance. There’s hope in that.”
“That… that’s true.”
“He also provided the means to prepare you. Go back to Knucklebones. He wanted to convey something to you, so go and read his words. If you absolutely insist on paying me more money, we can discuss other… oddities later.”
I nodded before he finished speaking. With a small shake of my head, I stood and held out my hand. “Thank you, Mr. Serin.”
With a seamless flick, he flipped open a professional folder with his card attached. In went the paperwork, then he flipped it closed, stood, and shook. He handed me the ATM card separately, so I added it to my wallet.
“My pleasure, Ms. Shepherd.”
With the folder under one arm and the bag in hand, I left Mr. Serin’s office. In a daze, I completely passed the elevator and had to come back. Mechanically, I pressed the elevator buttons and mused over my mysterious wealth and the machinations of tight-lipped mentors and purposefully ignorant lawyers. It all felt like a bit much, and my head swam.
Dad had gone to a lot of trouble to set all this up. It seemed he had a part for me to play too. In Knucklebones.
Reading.
Forever.
Mr. Serin’s words about good stewardship and employees echoed in my mind.
Getting Knucklebones back up and running was as good a start as any. I pulled out my phone and selected Rehl’s number.
He picked up on the second ring.
“Hey! So what’s the word?” he asked in a chipper tone.
“Word is… complicated. I have a question though.”
“Sounds like you have more than one.”
“Well, yeah, but this one’s for you.”