Nothing, not even to acknowledge that he was being really rude. When he looked at the other couple again, he saw the pair of wolves standing next to them. Con told the younger man not to move, that they were in trouble here, and he said he wasn’t worried.
“They’ll only hurt you if you try anything right now.” He asked him how he thought they’d not to kill him instead of just Con. “Because I’m a wolf. So are my parents. You, however, are nothing but a lowly human that is about to get his ass handed to him if he doesn’t leave us alone.”
“Now see here, young man. I’ve been really nice until now. I just want to talk to Clare. Or Conrad if he’s around. Just tell her that her dad is here, and we’ll see who gets their ass handed to them.” The man didn’t move, but the wolves did. As they creeped closer, their hair standing up on end and teeth showing, Con backed up. “What is wrong with you? Don’t you know that we’re related, you and me? I’m your father-in-law, damn it.”
The wolves stopped when they were even with the man. But Con wasn’t sure that it wasn’t just a ploy to make him think that they wouldn’t jump at him. Turning his back on the man, praying that they didn’t knock him down and eat him, he decided that next time, Ava was going to come with him. He’d need someone to witness how he was being treated.
Making his way back to the hotel, he thought about what the man had said. He was a wolf. Not that he didn’t believe him—he’d seen them around before—but a wolf wasn’t anything to be running around like they were just people. Maybe he’d call the game warden and let them know about the wild animals around here.
Stopping suddenly, someone bumped into him and he ignored being yelled at for the moment. Clare was married to a wolf. And he could command them. Or that’s what he thought anyways. And if he could just get one of them to do what he wanted, by way of his new son-in-law, then he could have more than just whatever he could get from Clare, but he’d have a bodyguard as well.
Heading to the hotel, he was a little worried when he saw the police out front. But when Ava came to see him, walking across the street without a police escort or guns blazing, he felt better. Ava hugged him and told him she needed a cup of coffee and then she’d tell him. Whatever it was, she was very upset about it.
“Someone has been playing tricks on me.” He asked her what had happened. “Well, I was taking a nice nap when I felt the bed move. I thought it was you, so I turned into your body. You know, like I do when I want some cuddling. But you were...whoever it was, they were freezing cold.”
“Cold? I’m not cold today.” She told him he was missing the point. “What point? You told me that I always warm you up. Now you’re saying that I’m cold?”
“Honey, you weren’t there. It was just me in the bed when I looked at the freezing area.” She frowned. “But I thought I did see Norman there for a moment. Like he was right there in the bed with me. He was bloated like you’d think he’d be, being in the water.”
“Oh. I was missing the point. So, you called the police?” She shook her head, saying she didn’t know who had called them. “But they’re here for that, correct?”
“Yes. I guess it’s because I came screaming out of our room when I saw Norman. Or what I thought was Norman. And I might have been naked.” She took a sip of her coffee and looked at him. “I was sleeping, and when I saw that thing next to me, I panicked. Why are you laughing?”
“Because there are no such things as ghosts, love. I mean, had there been, don’t you think someone would have mentioned it before now?” She nodded at him, but still looked upset. “Calling the police; I wonder who did that. But what is more perplexing is the fact that they don’t care we’re here. You’d think that they’d be all over that.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. It could be that they just don’t care. I mean, look at this town. Not even a decent place to get my nails done. And yesterday I wanted to get my hair done, to cheer me up, and there is only one place to go. Peggy’s Curl. I went there, just on the off chance that she was being cute. But nope, Peggy will cut and curl your hair for ten bucks.” Con didn’t know if that was a lot or not. He hadn’t needed to get his hair cut since he’d become bald several years ago. “No, it’s not a lot. It costs me over a hundred dollars to make me look this good.”
“And you do, too.” She smiled at him and his heart just melted. “I have to tell you about my morning. I went to all those houses and met up with Clare’s husband.”
“Do you think he’s as rich as we think he is?” He told her about the first few houses, and that he’d not found Clare’s yet. “But you did talk to him. What did he say about anything?”
“Nothing. Wasn’t really a nice person. Sort of rude and hostile, if you want to know the truth. Told me to stay away from his parents, then he made the wolves that were there come to him.” She looked confused. “He’s a wolf, darling. A real wolf. He told me that. And he can command them.”
“So?” He explained to her what he’d been thinking. “You think that he’d let us take them home with us? To safeguard us? I don’t know how that’ll work, Con. You said he was rude.”
“He’ll do it if he wants me to stay quiet about how he’s a wolf.” She smiled then, like she was finally getting onboard with his idea. “We’ll be as safe as lambs in a barn once we make him do what we want. And we’ll have the money too. I just know this is starting to be like we need it to be, honey. I just know it.”
They decided to have dinner at the diner. He’d never in his life been to a place like this one. The waitress asked him if he wanted to start a tab. Then they’d give it to the hotel when they were ready to go. Con thought that was an excellent idea, and they both ordered. Even Ava ordered more than she normally would have. Knowing that they weren’t going to pay for it at all when they left, he didn’t bother with making sure they stayed on budget this time. Yes, he thought, things were finally looking up for them.
By the time they were finished with their meals the police had come to talk to Ava but said nothing about who they were. After telling her that their things had been moved to another room, just to be sure, the officer said that they were to have an extra night for free, the hotel had told him.
Con laughed as they were settled in their new room. Someone had even hung up all their things in the closet, as well as a note was left that his suit and Ava’s dress had been taken to the cleaners. He could get used to this treatment if he wasn’t so afraid of Boone.
“You think he’s given up on us?” Con said that wasn’t likely. “Then where is he? According to the local gossip, he’s left his home and there are bulldozers and stuff all over the place. Even a drone thing was said to be there by the local newscasters.”
“I saw the equipment on the highway this morning when it got off the highway. I wondered about that. I’m wondering if someone thought he had a body or two buried on the place and is looking for them.” She shivered, but only cuddled up to him. “You want to take a nap, I’m all yours, but we do have to go out and find either kid of ours soon enough. I want to get this plan of ours moving.”
“All right. But I just need a little nap.” Ava yawned, and he was startled by the way her mouth looked. He didn’t say anything, but he thought she might need a little something put in her lips. She was looking a bit lopsided. “I’ll not sleep long.”
~~~
Randolph was enjoying his new place. It was only a hotel, sure, but it was like having everything you could ever think of right at your fingertips. He looked over at the scrumptious meal he’d just had, and wondered not for the first time since coming here why he’d bothered having a house in the first place. Hotel living was the way to go.
He had fresh towels when he wanted them. His bed was made up almost as soon as he was out of it. There was a nice area off the bedroom that served as his office, and he could order food from any of the local restaurants around and have it delivered. Not pizza—he abhorred those greasy cheese messes. But steaks and potatoes, as well as ice cream. A
nd he could send his suits out to be cleaned and have them back the next morning. He looked at Benson sitting across from him and told him to eat what he wanted. As the man enjoyed the bacon and potatoes that he’d left behind, Randolph went to his closet and pulled down one of his clean suits.
“I’ve had someone on the Macintoshes since we left. They’re running around town trying to get in to see their daughter. She’s a pretty thing. Those pictures we have of her, they’re way off the mark on her beauty.” He nodded and pulled on his white shirt, and loved the crispness of it. “Also, the Feds have been all over your property. They’ve found eight so far. I don’t think one or two of them they can attribute to you. They’ve been dead for a century or so. Anyway, that’s the scoop I have so far. This bacon is amazing. Did you think so?”
“I did. You should have had one of the biscuits. Like melted butter in your mouth. Those two, they’re going to have to be taken care of soon. I’m done playing around.” He nodded and asked him what he wanted to do. “I’m not sure yet. Just give me a little bit to think on it.”
“I can do that. Also….” Benson pulled out a notebook and turned pages. It was a habit that the man had had since he’d met him. A note taker. “Also, there has been some speculation that you’re hiding out close, but no one is wise as to where you are. Talk, that’s all it is. A couple of the people from your area are talking like it’s no less than they expected of a hood.”
“You do anything with them?” Benson just smiled. “Good for you. Sometime today, I want to try and set up a meeting with that Winchester. The ghost seer. There are a couple of dead partners that I’d like to talk to. He comes here, understand?”
“Yes.” He finished off the last of the breakfast and stood up. “You should also be aware that they’ve found your closet. The one with all the pictures and things in it. I don’t know what they plan on doing about that, but I’d say that it’s gone.”
“Yes, I figured that if there were ghosts hanging about, they’d know that as well. Lots of money down the drain, but I’ll get it all back. The paintings as well.” He sat down on the sofa, and marveled at how much softer it was than his own in his home. “See what you can do about getting me a permanent residence in this hotel. Or someplace like it. I’d like a suite with a couple more bedrooms if I can get it. If not, get it anyway. I’ve grown fond of having someone wait on my every whim.”
“All right.” He wrote that down and sat on the other sofa. “Do you think we can talk about a couple of things? Without you getting pissy with me?”
He and Benson had just that sort of relationship. They could talk and get pissy with each other, but neither one of them would pull a gun. He’d been tempted before, but had never followed through. He was a good man and a better partner, he supposed, than anyone he’d ever talked to.
“What’s it about, first?” Benson told him. “I’m not sure that I won’t get pissy then. Why don’t you want me to take the daughter? It might not bring her parents to heel, but the Winchesters would help me get them, and that’s the plan.”
“They won’t help you with that. They’d be more inclined to kill you for touching her. This pack, it’s not like the one you have at home. These men are ruthless. And they’ll protect their family and others like it’s their job. Even to kill.” He waved him off, but Benson shook his head. “I’m not kidding you, Randolph. These men aren’t ones to fuck with. Nor are the women in this family. They’ll not hurt you financially, nor will it be to harm you physically. They will kill you.”
After he left, Randolph decided to have a looksee into the Winchesters. He didn’t have any doubt that they’d try and hurt him, maybe even kill him. But that would be all it was, a try. He was more ruthless than ten of the biggest names in his line of business. Randolph wasn’t going to let anyone fuck with him again.
It took him over three hours to get the information that he’d wanted. Three hours of the most enlightening information he’d ever gotten on a family. They weren’t rich when they’d been growing up. Dirt poor. Then a man had come into their lives and made them the richest men in the state, one of them among the richest in the world.
The run down was that a man by the name of Cartwright had left the Winchester boys his estate, divided equally, pretty much, between five of them. The sixth one, Caleb, was a billionaire, while the others were worth millions. And—this one made him smile—they were making more money daily by good investing, buying up and reselling, as well as one was making sure that the handicapped were being taken care of by donating his own cash and having the best fundraisers he’d ever heard of.
And ruthless didn’t even enter his mind when he thought of these men. They were pussies. All of them. And they were ruled by the mother. Not that he had anything against women. No, Randolph respected them more than most. His own mom had raised him to be a good man and he’d turned out all right, for the most part. But they were so pussy whipped that he thought if he went to them about something and raised his voice, they’d cry.
“But not Caleb.” The man had hit him. Something that few ever did and got away with. And supposedly his wife had killed one of his men for touching her. Well, he didn’t believe that. She was a tiny little thing, and didn’t have the body mass to take on a man the size that she had. Caleb was just making her look good. Which Randolph could understand as well.
But the others, they weren’t worth his time or energy to mess with. Instead of going through them, he would just go after the daughter and see who came in to rescue her and do what he wanted, like bring her parents to him. Things were about to start going his way.
Randolph decided as he was leaving his hotel room that he was going to be the one that took the girl. He wanted her, and it was only fair that he dealt with the woman. He would never bother with the young man. Handicapped people, in his experience, were unpredictable, and they were sometimes violent. He would only take Conrad if it came to it. Which he doubted. The first thing he needed to do was to find out where she was all the time, and simply go in and take her.
The rest of his day was spent going to some of the shops along the main drag in Columbus. It was crowded and there were people everywhere, some in business clothing, others in casual. He sampled a few of the things being offered in a couple of store fronts, and made his way to what was known as the Art District.
Randolph loved art. He didn’t care what media it was in—pottery, paintings, or even glass—he simply loved the artistic value of it. He would, on a whim, spend too much on something that only caught his eye at that moment. Then when it arrived at his home, he’d wonder what he’d seen in it and toss it aside. Or sometimes, he’d give the piece, no matter the value, to someone on his staff. But today he was having a grand time, and hadn’t spent anything on the art.
Entering the place called the North Market, he stood there looking at all that was there. Christ, a man could make a fortune here, just in selling flowers. And the vendor that was doing that, when he found her, had a long line of people holding flowers in their hands.
There were restaurants at every turn. Desserts were in abundance as well. Donuts, of all things, were there, being sold with maple bacon on them, as well as sea salt. Another long line of customers were drooling and standing in line for their turn.
The Artisan Bread vendor caught his attention simply from the beauty of the gorgeous loaves of bread on display. Sourdough and French. There were baguettes and muffins. Randolph ended up buying several loaves of bread, blueberry muffins, as well as orange scones. He was making arrangements to have them delivered to his room when he spotted someone selling a variety of cheeses and meats. Christ, he was going to have to have himself a large fridge put in at this rate.
Walking back to his hotel after enjoying a lovely sandwich and some beer, he nibbled on the baklava that he’d gotten, as well as a gourmet coffee. Randolph thought that if he indeed did live here, he’d have to get rid of the limo he had and walk everywhere. Otherwise, he’d be as big as a house in no t
ime.
He called Benson to tell him about his find. Then he was going to find out what he knew about the Winchesters. The phone went unanswered and he didn’t leave a message, thinking that the man was taking a dump or something and would return his call soon.
The hotel had a message for him when he entered the building. He was to call Benson. Thanking the man, he made his way to the elevator, and while waiting on it to open and take him to his room, he tried Benson again. The same thing, no answer.
He entered his room just as he always did, and turned to put his things on the table that had been provided for him. Randolph felt his bladder simply let go. Then he sat down on the floor. What he saw in front of him, he was having a hard time equating with the man that had left him only hours ago.
Benson was dead. There wasn’t any doubt of it, because his head was currently laying between his open legs. His guts were draped across his head like he wore a crown of them. Getting up, slowly so that he’d not fall over, he sat in the chair and stared. It was as if he just could not look away. And the more he stared at him, the more he saw. It was like a horrifying painting.
He’d been killed in this room; that much was obvious. There was blood splattered all over the wall behind him, the outline of the person who had slashed him clean on the otherwise bloodstained wall. Benson didn’t even look like he’d had any chance to fight back—his hands lay at his sides like he’d been awaiting the horror that was to befall him.
Randolph staggered to him, thinking how much this person was going to pay for this. And when he saw the pristine white envelope sticking out of the top of his neck, deep inside of a plastic zip bag, he nearly threw up when his shaking hands reached for it. It had his name on it, in Benson’s clear handwriting.
It took Randolph three tries to get the thing to open. Then he had to wash his hands, fearful of getting blood on the missive and not being able to read Benson’s last words to him. He had no doubt that they had been his last. And he wondered if the note was dictated to Benson as he sat there, or if he’d said the things of his own will. Either way, Randolph wasn’t sure he wanted to read it.
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