Christmas Eve was a wonderful affair at the Morris’. Jim and Helen Morris made their daughter’s boyfriend feel both comfortable and at ease. Once Angie and Paul arrived it was merry company and Seth spent most of the evening sitting back to enjoy the camaraderie and often tongue-in-cheek exchanges between Paul and his father, Jim. Julia’s grandmother Rose hovered about, moving between her relatives and often joining in the banter. She wasn’t the typical grandmother in the least, having lived hard and traveled widely. She voiced an opinion on everything from cooking to politics, and even whether Paul’s tie was a tad too wide.
Several times during the evening Seth discreetly stepped to the oversized living room window and pulled aside the muted beige curtains. The silver sedan had parked a hundred feet down the street. He prayed he was mistaken and wanted to check out the sedan’s license plate number but a heavy drizzle settled over the Santa Barbara coastline and embarking upon a late evening walk was out of the question. So he sauntered back to his comfortable easy chair and watched Julia’s slender legs, draped in a festive red sweater dress, help her mother clear up the empty glasses of eggnog.
She was chipper and happy and every once in a while cast a sideways glance to him, bestowing upon him that special sweet smile indicating no secrets remained between them. Of course, she was the only one completely honest and it grieved him that he felt obliged to keep the cause of his anxiety from her. In many ways Seth felt like a traitor, yet in no way wanted to burden his sweet lady’s mind by problems that just might amount to nothing. As he pondered his dilemma and practiced shielding his anxiety from the astute Julia, Rose Simpson settled her large frame across from him and began to bombard him with questions.
“So you’re an architect?” she asked bluntly, eyeing him with a pair of shrewd blue eyes not remotely dimmed by the round spectacles she wore perched upon her nose.
“That’s correct,” he answered easily. “I work in eastern Santa Barbara on the other side of the university.”
“So how’s Lenny?” asked Rose. “He graduated two years before my oldest son. What a prim and proper character he always was. Is he still so politically correct these days?”
“I would say so,” laughed Seth, leaning back in the chair to eye the older woman appreciatively. She wore an expensive green cashmere sweater and exhibited a gaudy reindeer pin above her left breast, whose nose flashed every couple seconds or so.
“Is he paying you enough?” asked Rose, examining Seth’s subdued gray and black striped sweater and sharply creased wool pants. “He always was a little tight-fisted.”
Seth laughed out loud and it took a lot to make him laugh. Julia shifted her French-braided head to watch the lively exchange between her forward grandmother and lover. She listened to his response carefully.
“I’ve only worked at the firm for a scant four months, but yes, I would say he pays me well.” Realizing Rose was not to be so easily put off, Seth quoted his salary and savored the fact her bright blue eyes widened appreciatively.
“That will do,” she said stoutly, “and keep my granddaughter very nicely indeed.”
“Mother!” burst out Helen Morris who’d just deposited a round rum cake bursting with fruit and nuts upon the embroidered tablecloth; appalled that Rose would even breach the subject of Seth’s income. Her daughter’s boyfriend only laughed delightedly.
“It’s alright,” he chuckled, winking at Julia’s mother. “She’s just taking care of her own. Don’t you worry; I have enough money and motivation to look after your granddaughter well, though of course she does just fine as a teacher. I don’t think you’ll have any worries Grandma Simpson.”
“More eggnog boy?” asked Rose deliberately, pleased at the way the quiet young man had held his own, and without waiting for an answer, poured a large dollop of Irish Whisky into Seth’s mug. His lips tightened in suppressed humor; if he didn’t watch it he’d have to be rolled out in a wheelbarrow.
It was close to eleven before things calmed down and Grandma Rose took herself off to bed. The dishes had been cleared and washed and Seth sat comfortably upon a corner love seat near the lightly smoking fire, his arm draped over Julia’s shoulder to enjoy the musical Christmas tree lights. Julia turned toward him and nuzzled his chin, the scent of her clean hair sweet to his nostrils.
“I have to be going,” he whispered, as his fingers caressed her hair. She nodded bleakly, not having much choice in the matter since she couldn’t discreetly leave for the condo with him. Being at home for Christmas morning was a tradition never to be broken until she’d lawfully married and moved into her husband’s house. Seth brushed his lips over her hair; he understood the rules as well as she.
“You’ll come by early tomorrow?” she asked, savoring his warmth and the faint smell of vanilla lotion that always clung to him.
“I’ll arrive around 9:30, and that will give you a chance to giggle and snoop through your stockings, yet enable me to arrive in time for breakfast. I hear your mother makes wonderful Christmas bread.”
“It’s practically famous,” answered Julia, smiling. “She braids the dough into the shape of a Christmas tree and uses cherries and fruit as its Christmas ornaments. She adds cinnamon and honey and the bread actually melts in your mouth. You’ll love it.”
“Of that I have no doubt so I shan’t be late,” he said, as she walked him to the door. Julia’s arm hugged his waist, her head only topping his shoulder by a mere two inches.
“Till tomorrow then,” he said, kissing her tenderly.
Jim Morris, watching the pair from the partially open kitchen door, gave his wife a quick thumbs up accompanied by a broad grin. The relationship between his daughter and Seth Hayes was one he wholeheartedly encouraged.
Seth leaned down and whispered into her ear. “Be surprised at nothing,” he said softly, only for her to hear. “It’s a whole new world now; everything has changed between us as you will soon see.”
He opened his umbrella and scurried into the driving rain as Julia watched his lean form head for his Jeep. She missed him already.
As he drove carefully on the rain-slicked roads that twisted from the Morris’ house to Paul’s condominium, there was no question he was being followed. Seth slammed his fist against the steering wheel of the Jeep Grand Cherokee and cursed aloud. He didn’t care that it was the wee hours of Christmas morning on the east coast and that he’d probably be getting someone out of a warm bed to hear his complaint. This had to be taken care of immediately, and if anyone dared suggest he transfer out of the area, he’d tell them right where to stuff it. There was no way he’d relocate when his very soul pulsated with every breath his sweet love inhaled.
Mandy Gaskill was in a bit of a dither. After the demanding call from Seth Hayes at two in the morning she knew something had to be done, and quickly. At the office by five a.m., Mandy pulled out the thick manila file she’d only retrieved a few minutes earlier from the sealed files of the Angus’ personal safe and scanned it contents. The incredibly handsome face of a dark-haired man with steel gray eyes glared back at her. His demeanor held the beginnings of a fierce scowl and she could understand his mood completely. Here was a man who’d been forced to do something he hadn’t wanted to do in the first place and now was paying the bitter price.
Seth Hayes had asked for answers within twenty-four hours and he was going to get them; no matter if it was Christmas or not. She’d already run the license plate number and discovered the car was registered to one Adam Gable. He lived in a small apartment complex in Stockton, California; employed as an auto mechanic at Speedy Garage in the north of town. The description Seth supplied fit the image she now analyzed of Adam Gable; a man currently on parole for larceny and grand theft auto. He also had prior drug possessions and two DUIs. Adam’s sallow, uneven face appeared unhealthy and she wondered if he dabbled in illicit drugs.
While he seemed to hold down a steady job at Speedy Garage, his links with the criminal underworld were
well-documented and he had twice been investigated for unsolved assassination-type murders. Apparently a good mechanic, he had a series of regular customers who depended on his expertise with their expensive cars. Speedy Garage held a contract with Emerald Limousine and Adam also worked with the pricey firm, servicing their cars. She noted his salary had been submitted to the IRS as forty-five thousand dollars the previous year, and he’d taken several trips to Mexico and Hawaii.
“Wow,” she whistled. That was over sixty thousand Canadian, a heck of a lot more than her pay.
She also noted the brief paragraph regarding Lucas Hayes. As far as she knew he’d been relocated to somewhere in British Columbia as a security measure, though the file didn’t indicate where. Seth was justifiably concerned about his cousin’s safety if what Mandy had heard about Joe Alletti was even half-true. Mandy hoped some reassurance from Angus O’ Leary might help calm Seth down.
Besides, she speculated, maybe this Adam fellow wasn’t following Seth for any of the reasons the young architect suspected. Since grand theft auto was the ex-con’s forte, perhaps he’d spotted Seth’s Jeep Cherokee and designated it for a snatch. Cherokees were at the top of the preferred auto theft list in California, which might explain his surveillance of Seth. The most important thing was to get a tail on Seth as soon as possible and make sure his position hadn’t been compromised. It wasn’t like they hadn’t been keeping tabs on Seth. They knew all about his job, his current housing and roommate Paul Morris, as well as his relationship and subsequent affair with Julia Ann Morris.
As far as Mandy knew, everything seemed legit with Paul, his girlfriend Angie, and his sister Julia, but she’d check again. It never hurt to be too conscientious when dealing with a witness’ safety. So, even though it was Christmas, the matronly woman pushed back her mousy brown hair and realized the only way to placate Seth was to work diligently until it was time to leave for her daughter’s house for their traditional Christmas dinner. Her face clouded for a moment. Her daughter’s divorce had been a nasty blow and a show of family unity at this time in Liz’s life was crucial.
The snow blew fiercely across the street from her building, but she set her mind to the task at hand, working uninterrupted for over three hours. At the end, now justifiably concerned and more than a bit apprehensive, she rang up Angus. The muted drone of Christmas music in the background mingled with and the laughing frivolity of Angus’ many grandchildren.
Angus’ voice was steady, as usual, and he didn’t seem at all perturbed she’d called him this cold Christmas morning.
“Damn,” echoed Angus’ succinct comment across the lines. “Are you positive?”
“I’ve done three hours of cross-checking. Something needs to be done and done today.”
“But it’s the middle of Christmas,” protested Angus, and immediately regretted his words. Without action it very likely could be Seth’s last Christmas. “Who’s your associate down in the LA area?”
“A man by the name of Stan Garten.”
“Put him on it immediately. Arrange a safe house and have Stan transfer Seth tonight.”
“Ah, there’s a problem Sir; I don’t think Seth’s going to move.”
“What?” came Angus’ snort of disbelief. “What do you mean he’s not going to move? If I tell him to move he’s going to move!”
“He’s rather heavily involved with a woman, and from the sounds of it will probably refuse to relocate. I think instead of yanking him from where he is, a more tactful approach might be to check out this Adam Gable more closely and have Stan shadow him. We may also want to check on Lucas. He’s stashed somewhere in British Columbia.”
“I know,” mused Angus, warming to Mandy’s idea. He ran a hand through his graying hair as one of his two German Shepherds began barking excitedly at his grandchildren. The place was a madhouse! “Do what you think is right; just make sure you keep that boy alive. Hopefully we won’t have to use our backup plan. Get Stan on Gable as soon as possible. Ring Seth and convince him all’s under control.”
The call came late that Christmas evening, after Seth had returned to the condo, stuffed to the gills with succulent ham and the warmth of a loving, accepting new family. Mandy’s monotone voice tried to sound reassuring over the distant phone line. She related everything she knew about Adam Gable, his priors, and suspected affiliations. Seth was not in the least comforted.
“And Lucas, how is he?” he demanded.
“Angus is working on it as we speak. If we have to, we’ll move him, Christmas or not. We need to relocate you as well.”
“I can’t,” he ground out between clenched teeth, glaring fiercely at Santa Barbara’s holiday drizzle, and fingered the mobile phone. “I have a life here; a chance for a future. You can’t uproot me now. I won’t let you!”
It was just as Mandy had feared. “If they’ve found out where you are; even if we get rid of Adam Gable, it’s only a matter of time until another one’s coming after you.”
“I can’t abandon the woman I’m involved with now, because if I do I might as well be dead. You’ve got to find some other way! Keep a tail on this Adam fellow and give me at least until New Year’s to decide.”
“We’ll do the best we can Seth,” said Mandy, and hung up.
He wanted, no he needed, the comfort of Julia’s arms. He longed to crawl beneath warm covers and seek refuge in her embrace and shut the darkness out. By rights he should tell her everything, but his innate caution, as well as the desire to protect the woman he loved, immediately bullied those immature thoughts aside. Julia wasn’t involved in any of this mess, and damned if he’d drag her clean, trusting nature through the muck.
Yet the rational part of him knew it was way too late for any of these futile thoughts. He’d knowingly and arbitrarily dragged her into his world and worse yet, had made her his soul mate. No matter what happened, Julia was trapped and Seth cursed his inability to control his own destiny.
Seth wandered into his bedroom and pulled open the top drawer, where he’d fashioned a secret compartment. He wiggled the thin wooden backing aside and pulled out two items. The first was a deadly blue-black Beretta, loaded and ready. He touched the metal before pushing it aside and lifting the small red velvet box. The lid opened with a creak and he stood for a full minute admiring the exquisite diamond wedding set nestled inside white satin.
He’d picked out a channel setting where a large one carat diamond engagement ring, with two small .25 carat diamonds situated on each side, sat surrounded by beautiful eighteen carat Italian gold. The wedding band boasted seventeen diamonds recessed within its circular channel. It had cost him nearly two month’s salary, but was worth every penny. Seth vowed that someday these rings would grace Julia’s slim finger. Strangely calm, he replaced the red velvet box next to the Beretta and tapped the gun with his forefinger.
“I will keep what I need to survive upon this earth,” he pledged.
It took two full snifters of cognac and three hours of staring sleeplessly at the new aquarium, where a yellow tang, blue angel fish, and Moorish Idol jealously staked out their respective territories, to induce sleep.
Julia arrived bright and early the next morning, a large gaily wrapped parcel peeking underneath her arm. Attired in faded blue jeans, a bright blue UCLA sweatshirt, and comfortable loafers, she looked and felt cozy and warm. Once he released her from a bear hug embrace she grinned impishly.
“I have a little something extra for you Seth; something I couldn’t give you in front of my folks.” Julia handed him the good-sized present wrapped in bright foil paper and tied with a golden bow.
Seth let her into the inviting living room where he’d already lit a fire. He loved fires. Their encompassing warmth always indicated deep love and acceptance to him. Without fail, his father and mother had built enormous fires in the stone hearth every evening during the fall and winter in Canada. The dancing flames made him recall the memory of exchanging his soul with Julia and he felt his spirits lift.
<
br /> “Another present for me?”
His eyes twinkled and he wondered if Julia felt the same tugging pull at her heart as he did. He’d known when she was about to approach, almost able to visualize her bounding up the steps; and even before her hand lifted the brass knocker Seth could sense her joyful anticipation of being with him.
He sank down upon the couch before the crackling fire, the Christmas tree lights blinking to his right. Julia dropped to the floor in front of him, crossing her legs Indian fashion and cradling her delicate face in her chin. Her dark green eyes sparkled up at him, studying his beloved face.
“Don’t even think about it,” Julia warned, as he was about to tear off the wrapping. “You know that’s not how it’s done. In our family the tradition is to always guess what’s inside before you open a package, so behave.”
“Hmm,” said Seth, willing to play along with the game. “Well it’s too small to be a convertible,” he stated and pretended to pout.
Julia frowned, sniffing scornfully. “You can do better than that Hayes.”
“Alright. Let’s see… it’s way too big for season tickets to the Lakers…” He shook the package, causing her to swat his hand.
“That’s not permitted and you know it,” she chided, as he grinned.
Seth had purposely done it to torment her. He observed all the rules yesterday, noting each step of the contrived game. Starting clockwise, each recipient admired each brightly wrapped package without touching it and then thanked the giver before trying to guess what was inside. It prolonged the enjoyment of gift giving and Seth enjoyed the warm tradition, wishing to embrace it as his own. At her expectant face he decided to give it a genuine guess.
“It’s actually a pretty large package and could be just about anything. It’s fairly heavy so it can’t be an article of clothing. Hmm… I think it’s a book,” he said, “a skillfully wrapped coffee table book on architecture.”
Julia’s face lit up in a bright grin. “A good guess Hayes, but no cigar!” Her expression could only be classified as smug.
Love Never Dies Page 7