For a brief second, Miranda had the feeling everything would be alright. After all, how could it be that she was with her best friend in her time of need? It must be fate. Everything pointed to a positive conclusion, and one she need not worry about. She was striving towards that happy ending that was predestined to occur, but right now she needed to take advantage of the supportive, sympathetic ear she desired. Miranda stirred the milk and sugar into her tea as Tiffany sat quietly waiting for her to begin.
“So Tiff, what do you think of vampires?”
The cup Tiffany had raised in the air to her lips was suspended just beneath her shocked face.
“What?”
She roughly dropped the cup into the saucer, splashing a few beads of brown liquid on the back of her hand.
“Sorry, Tiff. Just wanted to hear your opinion on whether you thought they existed or not.”
Tiffany continued wiping her hand with the napkin long after the golden droplets had been vanquished.
“Want to tell me where the hell this subject came from Miranda? I thought you were going to fill me in on what you talked to that guy about and not …”
“I am telling you. Vampires are what we discussed.”
“Vampires?”
“Yes,” Miranda stood up. “Wait till you see this,” she said retrieving Stroker’s card from the jacket pocket. She set it down in front of Tiffany and then reached down and got the appraisal from her purse. She punched up the photos on her cell phone and lined them all up on the table before Tiffany.
Tiffany picked-up Stroker’s business card. Amused, she read the text out loud.
“Stroker. Vampire hunter?” her eyes shifted to Miranda’s. The earlier trepidation with the subject was no longer reflected in her face. Instead it was filled with a smugness that comes from an emphatic rejection of a subject not worthy of serious consideration.
“Miranda, you know me. I’m a city girl. I mean, look at where I live – in a penthouse in New York City. Yeah, I know the stories are out there that I’m a fluffy bunny and have no brain just ‘cause I choose not to work, but I’m a realist from way back. It’s who my family raised me to be and who I am – inside – all on my own. My appearance is a façade – done for show and because I enjoy getting all pretty. You know that, but most others don’t. I’m a lot like you – in a lot of ways. We both know that if you can’t see it, touch it, smell it, weigh it, it doesn’t exist. I mean, come on, chickie. If we can’t roll out a twenty and buy it, it really isn’t there, is it?” Tiffany paused smiling. She saw Miranda give into her. A brief grin appeared and disappeared. Tiffany didn’t know where this discussion was going, but she needed to continue talking Miranda down from the ledge.
“I see you smiling in there. You know, I’m right. I don’t know anyone that’s bought a vampire, how about you? I didn’t think so. ” Tiffany snorted derisively tossing the card to the side. She picked up the appraisal and began leafing through it.
Miranda kept her eyes on that bloody appraisal. It was the one piece of evidence that couldn’t be easily imagined away.
“Okay, so it’s a pretty egg, but fake. I got that. So what am I looking for here, Miranda?”
“My father’s fingerprints. He stole it.”
Tiffany’s eyes flashed over the top of the paper.
“I’m serious,” Miranda said swallowing a few more sips of tea. She saw her friend’s face disappear behind the paper.
The pages landed on the table with a punch. Miranda guessed Tiffany was done. Tiffany grabbed the handle of her cup.
“Your father stole a fake Fabergé? For what purpose?”
“I’ve seen it. It’s in Fairfield right now in that exhibit I put together for Jake. Oh, Jake! Remind me to check on how he is tomorrow in case I forget. My brain seems to be turning to mush lately.”
“Done.”
“As for the egg, I don’t think it’s fake … or should I say we don’t think it’s fake.”
Miranda had gotten through to her friend again. Her face registered interest.
“And who is ‘we’?”
“Mr. Vampire Hunter par excellence and myself. Just look at the pictures on my phone. I took those in Fairfield. You can see the marks don’t match. It was intentionally appraised as worthless. It’s usually the other way around, but not this time. It was done to hide a crime.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I … not entirely, anyway, but my brain is working overtime to figure this out. I need to fill in more details around the pieces I do know. You see this story is unfolding … has been over the past few weeks. It involves the exhibit in Fairfield …”
“You mean the collection?”
“Yes, I went with Reginald to Weatherly to inventory some items kept there. These items contained the collection I was going to send to Fairfield. I had promised Jake and well, you know how persuasive he can be.”
“I can imagine,” Tiffany retorted lifting a knowing eyebrow.
“Well, you’ll just have to take my word for it. He is. I decided on father’s Victorian collection. While there, I saw this egg. It looked like a genuine, undocumented Fabergé. When I questioned Reginald, he told me that it was genuine alright – a genuine fake. Father had been taken – it’s why he’d tucked it away. I’d never seen this piece before, but it fit right in the middle of it since the appraisal said it was manufactured during that time period. I examined it, noting that it had all the earmarks of being authentic, but there was Reginald assuring me it wasn’t.”
“Because of this appraisal?” she said indicating the paper she held.
“Yes, and because father had left it at the manor. He would never have been so cavalier with something so valuable – nor would he not have shown and displayed it. Father’s faith in the appraisal was what drove it home, but as I said, I held it. I saw it. I went with what Reginald said my father had told him. I mean, when had my father ever been wrong about an antique before?”
“Or anything else for that matter?”
“Too true and you can see why I disregarded my own gut feeling.”
“Yes, it’s understandable, chickie. Under the circumstances, I would have done the same. Now who did your father steal this from?”
“Well, that’s what I found out tonight.”
“From Stroker, the Vampire Hunter?”
“Yes.”
“And you know he’s telling you the truth because … ?”
“I don’t know everything he says is the truth, but things are leaning in that direction because of what Reginald said.”
“Which was?”
“That my father did go into Romania and steal artifacts. It was before my birth and lord knows why my father would have gone crazy and done something like that, but Reginald said he did. I was furious at him for even suggesting such a thing, but now … it’s confirmed.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, that much I do. The rest …”
“About the vampires, you mean?”
“Yes, that part. That’s what I’m unsure about … or was unsure about. I think it was father’s private joke.”
“You’ve lost me.”
“Sorry, it’s rather complicated. Reginald said father had called him after he had disappeared on this treasure hunting expedition.”
“Okay.”
“He said my father had called to have money wired. When Reginald pressed as to where he was, my father replied he was in Romania hunting vampires.”
Tiffany’s eyes darted from side-to-side. She brought her finger up to her chin and tapped it.
“I don’t get it. How is this a joke?”
“You’re not expected to get it. It’s what I figured out from what Stroker said this evening. You see, the family that owned the castle my father pillaged were reputed to be vampires. Obviously, it was just village gossip to explain a seemingly empty residence, but I doubt it was. This family is wealthy. They’re the Addunés. That’s A-d-d-u-n-e. Accordin
g to Stroker they go back a ways – to the Court of Versailles and further. They could easily have had other more livable residences, and it was rumored that they’d hired a caretaker to check on it. Plus it’s a castle. You know how ridiculously expensive it is to keep them up properly. No one would want to live in one without it being properly updated and I don’t even know that it’s been done. No, the stories were probably true as far as they went. They probably didn’t stay there – and outside of keeping a few possessions – it most likely was not occupied. My father did the same with Weatherly.”
“Makes sense – especially the rumors about this family. The undead thing is not very subtle.”
“What? Undead? What do you mean?”
“You didn’t see that?”
“See what?”
Tiffany disdainfully snorted air through her mouth as she rolled her eyes.
“God, Miranda! You are such a little chickie sometimes. A-d-d-u-n-e,” Tiffany spelled slowly grabbing her pencil and writing on a pristine napkin. Look, if you rearrange the letters you have …”
“Undead! Tiffany, how on earth … ?”
“The word games, remember?”
“Oh, right! So it’s an anagram? That is weird.”
“I guess coincidental at best.”
“Coincidence is the right word. I think everything seems a little odd right now. Even the people I’m meeting. I mean, Stroker and his being a vampire hunter? Is that normal?”
“Em, that would be a no!”
“He looks normal though. Handsome, except he has this … oh, never mind!”
“Has what?” Miranda remained silent. Tiffany pushed a little harder, “Has what, chickie? A third eye in the middle of his forehead? Come on spill the beans!”
“Well, his pinky finger.. All the rest of his fingernails are manicured and cut back to a proper length, but the nail on one hand – it’s long – super long. It’s like he just let the nail on little finger grow for some reason.”
“His pinky nail? Protection maybe? I’ve heard of martial artists sometimes growing a nail to scrape across a face or gouge an eye.”
“Lovely,” Miranda said taking a sip of tea.
Tiffany snapped her fingers.
“What a minute! I just remembered something I read. It was back in college!”
“You remembered something you learned in college? You’re one up on me then!”
“Yeah, well, maybe I should have framed that a little differently and said the only thing I remember from college!” she admitted laughing. “Anyway, it was about the Court of Versailles. Funny that you mentioned it, but one of the peculiarities was that servants never knocked on the doors of the king. They would scratch at the door using the pinky nails of their left hand. Don’t suppose it’s on his left hand?”
Miranda froze staring into the face of her friend – cup raised in front of her lips.
“Oh, no! You don’t even have to say it is. Your expression says it all. As I said, it could be for protection. Does he look like he’s into martial arts?”
“He could be. Very fit. Body of a skilled warrior. I suppose you’d need to be to fight vampires!” Miranda mumbled.
Miranda’s humor broke the tension. Tiffany giggled as she answered.
“Yes, you would! And the pinkie could act like a stake to be driven into the heart. You sure it wasn’t a wooden appendage shaped to look like a finger?”
“Probably is. Nothing would surprise me at this point! Christ, Tiffany, this is about my dad! Do you have any idea how badly I feel about finding this out about him?”
Tiffany gave Miranda’s hand a comforting squeeze.
“Chickie, believe me I understand. I would hate to hear anything bad about my dad. Yeah, I know he’s this big bad real estate developer, but to me he’s poppa bear.”
“Exactly. It doesn’t change anything though, Tiffany. I still love him, and I’m going to make this right.”
“Of course! You didn’t even need to say that! You’re daddy’s little girl and he was a wonderful man. You’re not wrong about that.”
“No, I’m not, am I? He just wasn’t perfect.”
“Yeah, there’s a lot of that going around.”
Miranda stretched in her chair and ran her hands through her hair.
“And now, of course, I need to apologize to Reginald and … “
“And?”
Miranda thought about mentioning Peter, but decided to leave him out of the conversation. She was the one that had been wrong – even if he had acted like a bastard. Miranda tried to imagine her father in the same situation. How would her father have acted meeting the relative of someone that had stole his property and put it on display to boot? Probably the same way.
“God, Tiff, I feel I need to let loose. Can’t wait to shake a tail feather!”
“You sure you still want to go?” Tiffany said as she grabbed the appraisal. She stared at the last page and then began writing on the napkin. Miranda watched her spell out the name T.R. Koers.
“Definitely. I’m in the mood and I need to stop thinking about this. I do not feel like calling anyone or doing anything until I recharge.”
“Then let’s go!”
“Great. I can wear that nice little almost there dress I just bought!”
“Hmmm… yeah, it looked so great on you,” Tiffany replied staring at the napkin. “I put your booty in the your bedroom.”
Miranda took the mugs off the table and brought them over to the sink. There were two cups and matching plates – pieces of Tiffany’s best china - already in there. Miranda knew that Tiffany only used it when she had company.
“You know, chickie, it’s weird, but this name … on the appraisal …”
“Tiffany was anyone here?”
Tiffany laughed and got up from the table with the napkin in her hand. She put her hands on Miranda’s shoulders.
“Yes, there was. Forgot to mention it in all the excitement. How did you know?”
Miranda pointed to the plates, “You never use that good stuff unless you have a special kind of company.”
“God, you know me so well! Yes, that’s true and yes, somebody is going to be real happy you’re going to that club tonight.”
“The person who was here you mean?”
“Yes, that’s who I mean. It was that guy we saw last night. The tall, blonde, hunko one.”
“Peter?”
“Bingo! He asked about you, but you were out …”
“But how did he know I was here?”
“Because he saw you there … with me … connect the dots! I’m not exactly unknown!”
“Sorry.”
“Hey, not everything has to be a great big mystery or conspiracy.”
“I suppose not.”
“I hope you’re not interested in that guy.”
“Why? I thought you said he was gorgeous?”
“Definitely gorgeous. I’ll give him that, but there’s something weird about him. The …”
“… creep factor! Isn’t that what you used to call it in college?”
“Exactly, although I haven’t used that exact term for a while. Then again, I haven’t come across anyone like ...” Tiffany folded her arms around her and shivered. She kept them in a caress, protecting herself from the unnamed evil. “I can’t put my finger on what it is. He just gives me the willies. When you stand next to him, there’s this coldness. It’s not apparent from far away, but it’s like you can feel the temperature drop when you’re near him. I’d just stay away from him if I were you.”
Miranda smiled. Staying away was the furthest thing from her mind right now.
“He just takes a little getting used to.”
“It’s strange that I’m being so negative about him when he did me a huge favor.”
“Okay, I am curious. What favor did he do for you?”
“He returned my credit card.”
“What?”
“Yeah, he said he found it at the club, but we’d alread
y left so …”
“He came here to return it,” Miranda said completing Tiffany’s sentence.
“Exactly.”
“Call me crazy, but that doesn’t sound all that horrible to me.”
“Yeah, whatever. I thanked him and it was nice, but … and anyway, I thought you weren’t all that into him? Last night, you gave the impression that you didn’t like him all that much.”
Adduné (The Vampire's Game) Page 46