“Yes, I’ve thought everything through and know where he is. If only I had listened! I was too intent on arguing and having sex with vampires to even do anything to protect the people I loved!”
Stroker ran his hand lightly through her hair. The touch was similar to one she bestowed on a childhood pet – a canary. She had fondled the bird in the same way – delicately so as not to injure its fragile body. She recaptured through visceral memory, how beautiful her little yellow bird was and how much she’d loved her. Her mind drifted back to these happier times when her only responsibilities were replacing the bird seed and providing fresh water. Her parents had taken care of everything else, but here she was, all on her own, and making a complete mess of things.
“Do not deal in the past and recriminations. You couldn’t have known. Even with all the warnings and signposts. It is too much for the mind to accept for it runs against the grain of everything we are taught to believe. The important thing is you now know the truth. Tell me what that is.”
“I know that there was a coffin delivered to Fairfield. There was some conjecture as to whether or not it was delivered, but that was because Rachel was the recipient of the shipment. Rachel Abbott is the creature you saw tonight – or what was left of her.”
“A coffin? And this creature was on the receiving end?”
“Yes, and Rachel worked for Jake Monroe. I should tell you now that I lied to you. You asked me if anyone had been hurt and I didn’t tell you about Jake. He was someone I was … was involved with. He headed Fairfield Museum and was taken suddenly ill. He died.”
“I’m sorry. I wish you had been more forthright. If I had known they were attacking, I might have guessed their timing and …”
“… averted this tragedy?”
“Maybe not. It may have been inevitable. It’s difficult to say. Please continue.”
Miranda drew in a long breath.
“Jake had suspected her of something, and I had pooh-poohed him, but now, knowing what she’s become, it makes perfect sense. So it wasn’t just you that I disregarded. I even dismissed dear Jake having the intelligence to know his own employee. He was the one who worked with her and yet I refused to believe him when he said she’d changed! How stupid, stupid, stupid can I be?”
Stroker nodded softly.
“We all have our lessons to learn. It seems you learned yours through extraordinarily hard circumstances … as I once did.”
Stroker’s story came back to her. She reached out and touched his arm.
“Oh, I am sorry! I’ve done it again! Thinking I’m the only one who’s experienced pain from these miserable … miserable monsters! I hate them! I hate them all!” Miranda was agitated. Stroker let her get it out. He’d been through this before and knew when to push and when to let go.
“Okay, calm down Miranda,” she said aloud to herself. She placed her hands face down in front of her to reinforce the notion. She felt like she was unraveling and coming apart. She took a series of deep breaths and waited for them to take hold. She knew Stroker was depending on her to get through this and tell him what she knew. He needed to know all of it. Then there was that plane to catch. She’d made the arrangements and only she knew what they were.
“I apologize again. I’m finding it difficult to concentrate.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s alright. You’re overloaded right now.”
“Yes, but there’s so much more to come, isn’t there?”
Stroker lowered his eyes. She knew it was his way of saying yes.
“The coffin ...” she started. She needed to complete the story. “I knew it had been delivered to Fairfield because of a note. A suicide note.” Stroker tilted his head to the side narrowing his eyes. He was listening. “A mover hired to pack the exhibit confessed to sending it. His conscience got the better of him – or the vampires did. He became unstable and killed himself, but left the note. It was sent to my barrister and … to make a long story short, the coffin was sent to Fairfield. That’s where it has to be – at Fairfield Museum.”
“That is good, Mademoiselle, but ...”
“Yes, yes, but there’s more. I met Peter at the exhibit. He said something about the collection pieces being home. I thought it was an odd phrase to use, but let it pass. Then there’s Jake himself being killed. I mean why? It had to be because of what he knew – or could reveal.”
“Your mind is active. That is good. I guessed that Fairfield must figure into things since it was there that the collection was sent, but she said Siberia. What does that have to do with Fairfield? Or the museum?”
“I was just coming to that part. I know! I know!” Miranda shouted.
Stroker’s eyes lit up. He leaned forward expectantly.
“You’ve figured it out?”
“Yes, I had visited Fairfield before. Last year. It was when I first met Jake. He was showing me around and a worker had stopped him. Rex … Rex somebody or other. He asked Jake about chairs that were needed for an outdoor banquet. Jake told him they were in Siberia. Rex immediately walked away as if he knew what Jake meant. I was puzzled. I couldn’t imagine what he was talking about so I asked him. He said that Fairfield Museum had a sub-basement – a hidden level – that they used to store infrequently needed items – like furniture and fixtures. Since the place is desolate and seldom visited – the staff had nicknamed it Siberia.”
Stroker was aroused and active. He sprang to his feet – circling around. A smile savagely overtook his face. He sat back down and tapped Miranda’s hand excitedly.
“That’s it, Mademoiselle! We have these bastards by the Siberian crosshairs!”
“Really?”
“Yes, really!”
Miranda was overjoyed. She threw herself in Stroker’s arms and gave him a warm, appreciate hug. He grabbed her on either side of her head and gave her a brotherly kiss on her forehead.
“You did wonderfully, Mademoiselle. Extraordinary! Under the circumstances, it was too much to ask of you, but you came through. Even after all that has been done to you. Be very proud. And the best part is that I’m sure they don’t expect it.”
“They? Are you sure there’s more than Peter involved?”
“No, not sure, but I am anticipating trouble. I never underestimate these villains. If it is only Peter, I will be thrilled, but not until we are there will we know for sure.”
Miranda’s disturbing nightmare came back to her in full force. What if what Chase and Reginald told her about her father was true.
“May I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“What would cause people to have nightmares that my father was behind this? I know you’ve told me, he’s safely in his grave, but my brother killed himself over thinking my father was after him. And I myself had a dream. I don’t understand.”
His large hand ran up the side of her arm reassuringly.
“You remember I said they can cause visions and such. They are creatures that prey on our minds.”
“Yes, but it doesn’t make any sense.”
“Yes, it does – if you think about it from their perspective. The first thing we know is they hate your father. Putting a thought like that in someone’s mind is tantamount to desecrating him. Throwing mud and tarnishing his memory.”
“I see, but …”
Stroker held up his finger.
“Please allow me to finish. I am not done.”
Miranda stopped in mid-sentence. She was doing it again. Asking a question and then attempting to answer it herself. She had to start relying on other’s knowledge – especially about things she didn’t understand. She folded her hands in her lap and waited for him to have his say.
“A father’s hold on a child is powerful. You can see how effectively it was used in dealing with your brother, do you not?”
“Yes,” she said feeling the onset of an intense rush of emotion.
“Your father was used as a weapon to destroy him. And then there is this journey we are on.
What better way to put doubts and fears into your mind than making you believe your father will be waiting for you in Fairfield? It is a chilling enough prospect to conjure an image of Peter Adduné laying in the bottom of that coffin, but your father? You see how they covered all bases in their planning. If you believed that this could be true, there is no way you would travel there. You couldn’t kill your own father no matter what he’d become. At least that is what I think from the little chance I have at getting to know you.”
Miranda looked down. She knew he was right. The seed was brilliantly placed. And it had destroyed Chase. Rachel had made him think his own father was trying to destroy him by evoking a nightmare that he couldn’t distinguish from real life.
“I do see – now. It makes perfect sense. They are diabolical, aren’t they?”
“The worst of the worst. And in case you have lingering doubts, remember that I saw your father. They thought their lie would work, but they didn’t count on me. Now we must leave. Time is of the essence and …”
“I’ve thought of that also. I’ve chartered a plane,” she said nodding towards the satchel at Stroker’s feet. “Didn’t think they’d let you on a regular flight with that.”
“Good thinking, Mademoiselle.”
“Thank you – it is well worth the money to destroy that fiend. I called for a car to take us to the airfield. It should be here …” the sound of the buzzer interrupted her sentence. “… and it is – right on schedule.”
Miranda ran and grabbed her overnight bag. She didn’t need anything more. After all, how long did it take to kill someone – even if that someone were a creature of the night.
CHAPTER 40
The plane ride was smooth. They arrived in Fairfield safely and armed with a plan hurriedly concocted on the flight. They rented a car and headed straight to Fairfield Museum. Miranda explained the security system to Stroker and impressed upon him the need for a keycard. It was either that or going into the museum in the daytime and hiding out in Siberia until after closing time. Even though there were no security cameras in the sub-level, it was risky at best. Pilfering a keycard seemed the best way.
They approached the receptionist’s desk. Stroker stood to the side while Miranda asked for Theresa. A phone call was placed. A second later they were allowed admittance to the offices.
They climbed the stairs heading towards Jake’s old office. They found a tearful Theresa at her desk, packing a cardboard box.
“Theresa?”
Theresa had been lost in her thoughts. She hadn’t expected Miranda to make a visit. She turned to see Miranda and the huge, hulking man by her side.
“Ms. Perry,” she said fighting back tears. “Have you come to check on your exhibit?”
“No, I actually came because I wanted to attend Jake’s funeral. I thought you would know the details,” she said as she surveyed Theresa’s half-emptied desk. There in the corner on top of a stack of papers was the prize – Theresa’s unattended keycard.
“You wouldn’t mind writing them down for me, would you?”
“No, no, not at all,” Theresa said looking more confused than she’d ever seen her. Her eyes were red from crying and it looked like she’d been up the whole night. Miranda guessed that she had harbored unusually strong feelings about her former boss.
Miranda walked forward and sat on the corner of Theresa’s desk. She was right next to the keycard. When Theresa reached for a pen and began scribbling down the information, Miranda snatched it from the polished surface. She held it out behind her for Stroker to take. She felt Stroker’s firm grasp expertly dispose of it. He walked back to his position, pocketing it for later use.
“Is it alright for me to take my associate down to see my collection?”
Theresa hunched her shoulders. “Sure why not? It’s public and even if it weren’t, it’s yours.”
Miranda turned towards Stroker.
“Why don’t you go downstairs and have a look? I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
Stroker took the hint and headed for the stairs – satchel in hand and plastic card assuring them access card safely in his pants pocket.
“His name is Stroker. He’s a photographer. I hired him to take some pictures for submission to an art magazine. They’ve been dying to do a feature on this exhibit. Could give the museum and my company a little publicity. And, Theresa, I arranged it before I found out about Jake. This isn’t a case of cold-hearted business as usual, it’s just bad timing.”
Theresa ripped the sheet of paper from the pad and handed it to Miranda. Miranda folded it and placed it in her purse.
“I was wondering who he was. I thought maybe he was …”
“A replacement for Jake?”
Theresa looked down at her feet.
“I’m sorry. It’s really none of my business.”
Miranda touched her arm lightly with her hand.
“Don’t be sorry. Being Jake’s assistant, I’m sure you’ve seen a lot. It must have been difficult not saying anything.”
Theresa met Miranda’s eye.
“Thank you for that. I always did like you. You seemed so, so genuine. Not like some of the other women Jake went and got himself involved with.” Theresa exhaled relaxing a bit. “Just the fact you came back here proves that I suppose. None of the others even seemed to care,” she said fighting back a new onset of tears.
“You really liked him, didn’t you, Theresa?”
“Yes,” she sniffled grabbing a tissue from the box on her desk. “I did. I was one of the few women he didn’t have ulterior motives about. He treated me like a little sister.”
Miranda realized she’d misjudged the relationship that Theresa had with her former boss. They hadn’t been intimate, although it was obvious Theresa would not have raised strong objections.
“And that was unusual? I mean him not having designs?”
“Oh, yes,” she shot back throwing her hands up over her face when she realized what she’d said and its implications. “Oh, I didn’t mean to insult you! Really I didn’t! I know Jake thought very fondly of you.”
“Theresa, it’s alright. I understand.”
“Thank you for that. I’d feel terrible if I insulted you. You’ve been nothing but kind to me. And as for Jake and women, there was just one other woman that he didn’t want. Only with her it was an aversion and not just because he felt brotherly love.”
“And that was?”
“Rachel Abbott. For whatever reason, he hated her. Now that I’ve gotten to know her, I totally agree. It’s why I,” she said holding up a tri-folded paper, “wrote this. I’m resigning. I can’t work for someone who’s …”
“Demanding, arrogant, impossible, and a bit of a loon?”
Theresa’s face bent into a small smile.
“I guess you know her?”
“Yes, I’ve had the pleasure … and,” she said taking the paper out of Theresa’s hand. She ripped it into small pieces before tossing it into the garbage can. “I don’t think you’ll be needing this. I have a feeling she won’t be coming back.”
Theresa cocked her head to the side.
“But how? How do you know that?”
“I have my private sources.”
“Really? I mean, she isn’t in yet, but she usually does come in later in the day. I was just going to slide this under her doo … Jake’s door,” she said correcting herself.
“No need for that now. Rachel has found much greener pastures to sow. She won’t be coming back at all. Not even to collect her things. She’s deliriously happy. You might even say she’s lost her head over a man.”
“Really? She doesn’t seem the type, but I hope you’re right. The only one that would miss that bitch is Rex. Speaking of someone losing their head. They’re friends, if you know what I mean. Personally,” she said leaning in so no one could overhear, “I think it’s friends with privileges.”
“Trust me. She won’t be haunting this place anymore.”
She stood and
gave Theresa a friendly hug.
“Keep strong,” she said patting her back, “and thanks for the info.”
She ran down the stairs leaving a slightly confused and bossless Theresa to work out what had been said. She had no time to go into more details and couldn’t even if she had wanted. She’d come to Fairfield not for pleasantries, but for something far more difficult to obtain – retribution.
As she watched the stairs disappear under her fleet feet, she wondered how Peter’s head would look on a platter.
CHAPTER 41
Adduné (The Vampire's Game) Page 58