Vengeance

by JL Wilson

  I was speechless. It felt as though someone was squeezing my heart. I wanted to gasp with shock but couldn't get past the constriction in my chest. "What?" I barely managed to get the word out.

  "You heard me. I appreciate your help, but this can't be permanent. We're too different. We value different things. This can only be temporary. You're not the kind of man I could ever fall in love with."

  I heard a car pull into the driveway. The headlights shone into the kitchen, a brief glare that made me squint. Lucinda edged past me before I could react. "That's John. I'll go let him in."

  I felt stunned. I had finally discovered love and now it was being handed back to me with a carefree, "thanks, but no thanks." I didn't know what to do.

  I think I know what's happening, Cerberus said. He came out from under the table, staring at the side door where Lucinda had vanished.

  "Really? Then explain it to me." I glared at the inoffensive stuffed animal perched on the chair I used, wishing I could tear its head off. I found the love of my life--found her again--and she didn't know me. Not only did she not know me she didn't want to know me.

  She's worried about--

  I tuned him out when I heard voices in the garage. Lucinda and John Fairchild came into the room, bringing with them the chill of morning.

  "...not be your month for cars," Fairchild was saying, laughter in his voice. He hesitated in the doorway when he saw me, leaning against the counter, glaring at him and Lucinda.

  "You remember Nico Haidess, don't you, John?" Lucinda said coolly, moving to pick up her briefcase.

  "Sure." Fairchild stayed near the door, his mouth quirking up in a smile. "Nice to see you again. Did you have a chance to look over that proposal? I tried calling you, but I couldn't..." His voice trailed off, his brown eyes going to Lucinda, then to me. "I mean, I called last night and your phone..." He cleared his throat. "Good thing you were there to help Lucinda. I appreciate that she had someone with her." His long face clearly reflected his uncertainty.

  "It was the least I could do for my employer," I grated out. "Do you want me to lock up after you leave?" I asked Lucinda. "You appear to be in a hurry."

  She looked surprised and, I was happy to see, embarrassed. "I have a lot to do today."

  "I know. I also have a lot to do." I pushed away from the counter. "If you'll wait a second, I'll get my jacket. I'll plan to meet you at your office in a few hours so we can discuss strategy. Does that work for you?"

  Before she could answer, Fairchild said, "That would be great. I'd like to go over that prospectus with both of you. I'm not quite sure how to proceed."

  I paused as I was leaving the room and looked more closely at him. He had dark circles under his hazel eyes and his face appeared thinner, drawn. His gaze bounced from spot to spot, reflecting his edgy nervousness. I wondered if it was because of the upcoming meeting, Lucinda's accident or if the gambling debts Sheila talked about were closing in on him. "How do you want to proceed?" I asked. "We do have some options, depending on what other members of your family do."

  He looked from me to Lucinda. I don't know if she saw the desperation in his eyes. "We can talk later about it all. When we're all more focused."

  I nodded and left the room. Cerberus padded after me, waiting in the hall while I went into the bedroom to retrieve my leather jacket. I glanced in the full-length mirror as I left the room where I was reacquainted with the one woman I'd ever loved. The bedspread was tossed over the sheets and there was no sign of last night's erotic encounters. Had I imagined it all? I read her emotions as we made love. She cared for me. I know she did. What was happening? After what we shared together...

  Was I deluding myself? I didn't want to consider that thought. I jerked on my coat and strode down the hall, almost running over the two kittens who ambled out of the den, yawning.

  Leaving? the tabby asked.

  Yes. I stepped over him and his brother, who had paused in the middle of the hallway to tap carefully at a scrap of paper on the floor. They trailed behind, peppering me with questions.

  Is she mad at you? She was crying this morning.

  Mommy said you made her sad. How did you do that?

  What do you mean, she was crying? I stopped at the entrance to the kitchen and stared down at the orange kitten who sidled into the room, obviously uncertain about Fairchild's presence.

  She cried when she got wet this morning. He looked at Cerberus, who was pressed against Lucinda's side, staring up at her. Ask him. He knows. See you later.

  The kitten scampered away, chasing his brother into the living room. I joined Lucinda and Fairchild at the door, Cerberus careful to stay as far away from me as possible. "Ready?"

  Lucinda glanced at the picnic basket, still sitting near the alcove. "Don't forget your basket. And the leftovers."

  "I'll leave the food for you." I grabbed the basket, paused near the Velveteen Rabbit, then deliberately walked away from it, leaving it on the chair where she set it. "You can have it tonight for supper."

  "No, you take it. I'm counting calories and it's too tempting."

  "I don't know why you're trying to lose weight. For heaven's sake, you look fine."

  She snorted. "Yeah, right. I'm just beating the men off with a stick." Then she looked away from me, her face flooding with color at the memory of our earlier conversation.

  "You're beating me off," I muttered.

  John shot me an amazed look. "She is?"

  I blushed, the first time in decades I could remember doing so. "That didn't come out the way I meant." I hefted the picnic basket. "Throw the food away if you don't want it."

  "It's not that I don't want it," Lucinda said in a low voice. "It's just not good for me." She hesitated, looking as though she'd elaborate, but Fairchild nudged her aside to open the door and the moment was lost.

  For a brief instant, she looked up into my eyes, her gray eyes troubled and perplexed. I fought the urge to touch her soft cheek, feeling the warmth there for myself. "I'm sorry, Nico." Then she left, almost stumbling over Cerberus, who had pushed ahead of her on Fairchild's heels.

  I looked back into the kitchen, memories of our dinner the night before vivid and painful. "So am I." I followed her out the door.

  Chapter Twenty

  She's in love with you, but she's afraid you're both so different it can't work, Cerberus insisted for the tenth or eleventh time.

  He was lying on the hand-woven Tibetan rug in my bedroom. I was in my walk-in closet, staring at my clothes hanging in color-coordinated ranks, dark to light. I'd been pacing for almost thirty minutes, distracted and unable to focus, still in shock. I was stupid with exhaustion, indignation and bewilderment.

  Lucinda insisted on riding from her house to Delacroix Labs with Fairchild. I didn't want to let her out of my sight, so I pretended to agree then followed them until they got to the office.

  "She's not in love with me." I jerked a pearl gray linen shirt off a hanger and dragged it on. The color suited my mood. "She made it clear she wasn't in love with me." I snatched up my black jeans and Harris Tweed coat as I strode out of the room. I couldn't bear to talk about it. The humiliation, combined with the hurt, actually made me nauseous. What should have been a time of happy anticipation, the imminent death of Robert Meyer and the reunion with a Lucinda with restored memory, had soured and now I had nothing.

  Well, not exactly. I pulled on my jeans as I stood in the small loft above my office, staring out at the woods at the side of my house. I had Robert Meyer to deal with. I could still anticipate killing that lying bastard. Meyer had been correct the other day in the park. The next time we met, one of us would die.

  As I went down the spiral staircase that led to my study, I used my mobile phone to dial the first number Sheila had given me. I was bounced immediately to a voice mailbox. I disconnected and dialed the second number.

  Sheila answered. "I was just thinking about calling you. I've got some information about the car that ran your lady friend off
the road last night."

  I almost snapped that she was no lady and certainly no friend of mine but I restrained myself. "What do you have?" I watched the model train make its rounds, vanishing into the wall where it wended its way up through the studs and the floorboards to emerge in the bedroom and begin its descent back to the lower floors.

  "The car was rented by Alejandro Calderone." She said the name as though it had meaning for me.

  "And?" I prompted.

  "Mr. Calderone is an employee of that group I told you about, the ones who hold Fairchild's gambling debts. It would appear they decided to send Fairchild a warning."

  I remembered John Fairchild's nervous, frightened movements that morning. "I think he got the message."

  "Parker found out that Fairchild has until midnight tonight to make a significant dent in the debt he owes." She paused, her voice perplexed. "He said to tell you it was 'a family thing.' That's how he phrased it. 'Tell Nico it's a family thing. Fairchild has until midnight.'"

  "How much does he owe?"

  "Four hundred thousand, give or take a few thousand."

  I winced. "And if he doesn't make that dent?" I looked up at the loft. Cerberus watched me, his black and white face disembodied and ghostly.

  "If things go the way they have in the past with this group, someone close to Fairchild will be hurt. They don't come after the principal. They come after someone close to him. Fairchild isn't married or involved with anyone, so that makes your friend a prime target. It will be either her, her sister or other family members."

  I remembered how Fairchild looked at Cara when he and Lucinda found us in the office. He would probably welcome someone hurting Cara. He sat with Jeff Delacroix during our initial meeting with Meyer, so presumably they were somewhat close. Then I remembered Kathryn, the niece. Where did she fit into this? Parker indicated that she was responsible for the hit on Lucinda. She didn't strike me as a very resourceful young woman. Meyer had to be behind it.

  "Lucinda and her nephew. Prime targets."

  "Stay on your toes. There's that to worry about and..." I heard a murmured aside, something like, "aw, Parker knows I will." Her voice lowered. "Listen, the hit's today. When Parker couldn't get in touch with you last night, he called in reinforcements." I started to ask the obvious question and she overrode my words. "No, I can't say. You know how it goes."

  I did, indeed. Parker had any number of agents he could call in.

  "Nico?"

  "Hmm?"

  "The hit's on you too."

  I stared into the woods outside my window, noting the rich green shoots of daffodils starting to poke through the mulch under the rhododendrons. It was spring. Good Friday, a time of death and rebirth. It was also the anniversary of Lucinda's--Persa's--her death. It was fitting that my life should be in danger at this time of year.

  "Really?"

  "You didn't hear it from me."

  "That's okay, Sheila. No need for details. I understand." I'd been expecting it. There was no loyalty in my trade and Parker had to be suspicious by now about my actions. At some point I became a liability to him. "If you can give me any warning, I'd appreciate it."

  There was a brief pause. "I just did. Good luck, Nico."

  I closed the phone with a snap. "That's annoying." I went to my gun safe embedded in the wall behind the signed Degas sketch.

  Don't tell me. You're a target now too.

  I glanced up at Cerberus. "How'd you guess?"

  It fits the pattern. Meyer has been one step ahead of us all along. I wonder...

  I pulled out my Sig Sauer, considered it then put it away in favor of my customized Colt. Today was an auspicious day. I wanted to use my favorite gun. I slipped a magazine into the chamber and put one into my jacket pocket for good measure. "Wonder what?"

  Did he take out the hit on Lucinda to lure you closer?

  I pulled on my jacket. "We talked about that. He's not worried about me. No, this has to do with Lucinda, not me." Something Cerberus said niggled at my mind, reminding me of a comment he made earlier. I slipped the gun into its kidney holster and settled my coat on my shoulders. The vague thought vanished. "Do you need to go out before I leave?"

  Cerberus thundered down the spiral steps, nails clicking on the wooden risers. Can you take me with you?

  I hated to admit it, but I wanted his company. "I suppose. But you'll need to stay in the car. The meeting with Meyer won't take long, I hope."

  No problem. I can use a nap. He paced behind me to the door. You'll bring her home, won't you? Bring her here?

  I had already thought through the logistics of the day. "Yes. Then we'll go up north, to my cabin on the Canadian border."

  He looked at me over one furry black shoulder. Good plan. We can lose ourselves in the woods if we need to.

  We left the house, emerging into a cold rain. True to the forecast, I saw white sleet pellets splattering the grass. "You'll like it at the cabin. It's my real home. I built in the 1840s and it hasn't changed much, except I added solar power to replace the wood-burning stove and provide me with hot water when I want it. I've stayed there even in January."

  Hardy soul. He shivered, his fur rippling on his massive shoulders. Someone walked on my grave, he murmured.

  I glanced at him. "Mother used to use that expression."

  He nodded. I know. When we reached the car he paused, his pale blue eyes bleak. My future hinges on today too.

  I didn't know how to reassure him so I said the only thing I could think of. "We'll straighten it all out, one way or another."

  He huffed out a laugh then jumped into the back seat of the SUV that the valet service had delivered to the house. Good. I'm getting tired of being a dog. He closed his eyes before I could reply and began to snore ostentatiously.

  Traffic was light, probably because of the Easter holiday. The paucity of cars on the road made it easy to spot the navy blue sedan that followed me with tenacity that defied streetlights, freeway traffic and maneuvering on my part. I kept them in sight as I drove to Delacroix Labs, one part of my mind focusing on potential danger and the other on the future.

  What future could there be? No matter what Cerberus said, Lucinda wasn't in love with me. She was adamant in her dismissal. A small little voice in my head reminded me that he probably knew her far better than I did, but I decided to follow my gut instinct this time. The last time I followed rational thought, I got in trouble with Cara.

  No, there was no future with Lucinda, but I wouldn't desert her. I'd coerce her into going north with me until I was sure she was safe. By the time I turned into the parking lot at Delacroix Labs, I had come to terms with it.

  I leaned over to look in back, at Cerberus. "Will you be okay out here?"

  He yawned widely. Sure. I'll guard. Give Lucinda my love.

  "I doubt I'll have the chance." I talked myself out of disappointment as I walked into the building. I had been living alone for two centuries. Why should I care now? What did it matter that I'd be alone?

  I had my answer when I saw Lucinda, standing outside her office and talking to John Fairchild, small and businesslike in her navy blue ensemble. Why did I love her? From her curly black hair to her navy flats, I loved every inch of her. She was argumentative, opinionated and stubborn to the point of mulishness, but she was also sweet, generous and trusting. I couldn't imagine living without her. The thought of it made me ill. I forced a smile on my face and joined them, extending a hand to Fairchild.

  "Reporting as requested," I said lightly.

  Lucinda turned and for an instant, she beamed at me, a wide smile that took my breath away. I took a step closer, her nearness intoxicating. "Hello, boss." I wanted to touch her, to feel that amazing psychic sharing again.

  "I wasn't sure if you'd come. Thank you." A cool mask smoothed her face, erasing the warm smile. "Did you get my message?"

  For a minute, I thought she meant the unconscious message she was trying to convey. Then I realized she meant it literally. "W
hat message?"

  "I called your house, but you must have already left and I didn't have your mobile number with me. Cara cancelled our meeting."

  "What? Why?"

  "She said that Robert was called out of town unexpectedly. He couldn't be here."

  "Bullshit." What was Meyer up to? Too much was at stake today. We were going to finish our business even if he wasn't going to finish Delacroix business.

  Lucinda shrugged. "That's what she said. She came in, told me and went to her office. I have to admit, she didn't look good. I assumed she canceled because she was ill."

  My attention sharpened. "In what way?"

  "I don't know. Tired, upset." Lucinda's sidelong glance at Fairchild reflected her worry. In that instant I realized she was aware of her half-brother's problems. Pieces of my past seemed to intersect with the present. I remembered her brother, the one in 1790 who got into trouble. Lucinda helped him by betraying me. Was something similar in the works now? Would she save John Fairchild but sacrifice me in the process?

  "Where's Kat? And Jeff?" Fairchild asked. "They should have been here by now."

  "Perhaps Cara got in touch with them." Lucinda started to pick at a ragged cuticle on her thumb, mangling it even further.

  I put my hand on her wrist. Emotion flowed to me through our tenuous connection. Confusion, sadness, regret and love all inundated me. She longed to kiss me, touch me. But something held her back, some uncertainty that drowned out all other emotion.

  "Let's discuss this." I walked toward her office, not releasing my hold.

  "The conference room is--"

  "In private." I turned to Fairchild. "Lucinda and I need to talk then I'll chat with you about your problem."

  "Problem?"

  He didn't pull off 'innocent surprise' well. "I'll call my bank right now and cover your losses if you promise to get treatment for your gambling addiction."

  The stunned look on his face and Lucinda's was priceless. I wondered if I could submit it for use on that credit card's commercials, then banished the thought when I tried to visualize it: "Rescuing a future brother-in-law from gangsters: four hundred thousand dollars. Finding your reincarnated lover and convincing her to love you... priceless."