by Chris Lange
Her father extracted his gaze from the enthralling menu. Pushing his glasses up, he frowned at Garrett.
“Why is that, my boy? Why did you call Jake?”
A waitress came to stand beside her dad. Having memorized the list, he ordered for the three of them. She jotted down in her notebook, hurried by his urgent tone. Then she went away quickly, allowing Garrett to answer.
“Unfortunately, sir, for the very reason I deemed necessary to impose my presence upon you this day.”
She stared at Garrett. Solemn as a bad omen, his tone seemed to lay a shadow over them. He didn’t waste time telling his tale. For the past days, London had been the center of wild, unconfirmed accounts.
Missing persons, mysterious disappearances, and the still recent Jack the Ripper murders had the streets of London in turmoil. Scotland Yard’s inspectors conducted an investigation but so far, no bodies turned up. Without bodies, there could be no leads or clues and she already sensed smoke without fire couldn’t be put into use in this case.
“Garrett, do you think it’s only gossip?” she asked.
“I fear not. Rumors abound about creatures of the night.”
“What do you mean?”
“People hint at vampires.”
She reflected on the surprising, yet not unexpected facts. Vampires were real in Garrett’s world, she could certainly testify to that. Although Raphael saved her life, it didn’t mean all bloodsuckers got their kicks out of rescuing people. Some might actually revel in destroying humans. Or drinking them up.
She rubbed her thumb as an afterthought crossed her mind. What if vampiric legends originated in Garrett’s dimension? Far-fetched, but conceivable given what she saw and experienced over there.
Before she had the chance to broach the subject, two men entered the dining room of the restaurant. The tallest of the two spotted them sitting at the table and came straight for them. A large smile displayed on his attractive face, Timothy shook her father’s hand.
“Hi, William, how are you doing? I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I’m fine, Tim. It’s good to see you.”
Going around the table, his smile widening, Timothy circled past Garrett to lean over her and plant a kiss on her cheek. “Hi, sweetie. How’s my lovely?”
As he straightened up, she glanced at Garrett who observed invisible patterns on his white napkin while he rolled it against the tablecloth.
“Hey, Tim,” she replied. “I’m good, thanks.”
She placed a hand on her best friend’s arm before again introducing Garrett as a distant relative from Nebraska. While Timothy clapped his shoulder in a friendly way, Garrett greeted him with a distant, formal nod, almost to the point of rudeness. Garrett then ignored the young man completely.
After gesturing to the person he came with to take a table across the room, Tim sat beside her father and proceeded with small talk. He went on to clarify the hows and wherefores of his presence, at ease in familiar surroundings.
His gaze rarely leaving her face, it took Timothy about fifteen minutes to explain why he chose Skoma’s to hold a business meeting with his new partner, and why tonight should bring him a new contract.
As Tim babbled about his work, she wondered if her growing excitement came from seeing him because they were close friends or from the fact that Garrett’s mood darkened by the minute. Probably the latter. Napkin clenched in his hand, Garrett now rubbed it against the length of his thigh.
On the contrary, her dad looked pretty bored and about to dismiss Timothy. Only when the waitress brought their plates did Tim finally take the hint and get up to say his goodbyes before joining his business partner at their table.
As soon as he left, her father eagerly dipped into his food, swallowed a mouthful, and resumed their former conversation.
“Vampires, huh?” he said, looking surprised, yet somehow unimpressed. “I can understand your concern, my boy, but what has this got to do with us? Surely Gabriel Harring would be best for the job.”
Her eyes widened at the mention of Jessica’s father, the vampire hunter who tracked and killed undead creatures as a way of living.
Garrett let go of his napkin and picked up his fork with so much energy that he banged it against his plate.
“Not quite, sir. Gabriel Harring is in the Carpathian Mountains. In his absence, Jessica took it upon herself to investigate.”
And what did Jake Cooper have to say about that? His mouth full, her dad spat out rather than spoke. “God, don’t tell me she’s gone missing.”
He swallowed his food while speaking, anger creeping up his face, and didn’t wait for Garrett to give him an answer. “How could you let this happen? Why on Earth didn’t you stop her?”
Though whipped by the sharp end of his mentor’s tongue, Garrett didn’t lose countenance but behaved like a man of noble birth.
“Sir,” he replied, his words ringing clear and unequivocal, “it appears I’ve been unworthy of your trust, and I sincerely apologize for my wholly unacceptable demeanor. I deserve your chastisement therefore I shall abide by your judgment.”
Well aware of Jessica’s bold and impulsive temper, Tracy figured the young woman hadn’t asked for anyone’s permission before setting off in pursuit of vampires. So why did Garrett apologize for something that wasn’t his fault? Unable to help herself, she sprang to his defense.
“Hold it, hold it. Did Jessica tell you she was going off to chase vampires? Did you know that beforehand?”
Although her tone indicated certainty, Garrett didn’t look at her, but his gaze settled over the darkness outside. “Jessica Harring can be unpredictable at times. I admit she didn’t inform me of her decision.”
“Then what are you apologizing for? I mean, you know what she’s like. Tough call, but it’s got nothing to do with you.”
“Nonetheless,” Garrett replied, “my duty—”
She cut him short, feeling like kicking up a fuss at so much unfairness, and pointed a rebellious finger at her dad.
“And you, how dare you put the blame on Garrett? You’ve known Jessica for a long time so why do you automatically assume it’s his fault? Can’t you listen to what he has to say first? Is that too much to ask of you?”
Her voice swelled with each accusation, and she willed herself to stop before she called other patrons’ attention, especially Timothy’s.
Brows raised over his glasses, her father looked bowled over by her flare of resentment. “Calm down, Tracy, we’re in a public place. If you must know, I didn’t assume Garrett was guilty of anything.”
“Don’t give me that crap, Dad, because that’s exactly what you did. And you know what? If I’d kept my mouth shut, you’d have been happy as a clam accepting his apologies. That is so unfair.”
Probably appalled by her unceremonious way of expressing criticism to his dear, dear mentor, Garrett opposed her. “Miss Richardson, one does not address one’s father—”
“Shut up, Garrett.”
His stand sickened her. She turned on him while she threw her napkin down on the tablecloth. “Can’t you, for once, think for yourself? Do you need that much to be told what to do? Don’t you have any self-esteem?”
Garrett’s blank stare swung her over the edge. Pushing her chair back with a loud noise, she stood.
“You piss me off, both of you. I’m gonna get some air.”
Then she strode out of the dining room, the back of her legs trembling with tension. Outside the restaurant, a light and salted wind played with her hair. She leaned her elbows on the patio’s railing, in need of a soothing landscape, and took long breaths to quiet her frayed nerves.
Night fell, the San Francisco skyline glittering on the other side of the bay. Although she’d have welcomed some time to cool down, her heart skipped a beat at the sounds of fo
otsteps behind her.
“That was quite an exit you just made. Are you okay, sweetie?”
She kept on staring at the ocean to avoid showing Timothy a disappointed face. He was a true friend and he had nothing to do with her state of mind. Unlike someone else, Tim had followed her out of concern.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Despite the breeze, she heard him move toward her. “So, Tracy, what was that all about inside?”
“Nothing important. Just, you know, petty family business. Gosh, Dad drives me mad sometimes.”
She shivered when a cooler gust of air hit her. With a rustle of clothes, Timothy gently draped his jacket over her shoulders.
“Thanks, Tim. I got out so quickly I left mine inside.”
“Do you wanna go back in?”
She turned round to face her ex-boyfriend. The man she used to have gentle sex with. The man who might have made her happy. Standing inches from her, he opened his arms and she snuggled up against him.
“Not yet,” she said. “Actually, if it’s no bother, would you take me home?”
“No problem, Tracy.”
“What about your partner?”
“Don’t worry, he won’t mind. I’ll only be gone for ten minutes.”
She looked past his shoulder and blinked as her belly lurched. A few feet behind them, Garrett stood by the railing. She stared at his stern face, wondering what he wanted now. If he expected an apology, he’d have to wait until cows shat bricks.
Still, she pulled away from Tim’s embrace. “If you’ll excuse me, I need a word with Garrett.”
“With whom?”
She cocked her head toward the haughty man. Glancing back, Timothy finally noticed the dominant presence.
“Yeah, sure,” Tim said. “I’ll see you later, Tracy.”
“Thanks.”
He walked past Garrett without acknowledging him, and headed back inside.
Once Tim was gone, she exhaled a silent breath, took hold of the lapel of the jacket, and closed the short distance separating her from Garrett. His brooding features still showed traces of his former dismay, but she decided to ignore his displeased expression.
“Don’t bother, Garrett, I know what you’re gonna say. Yes, I yelled at you and Dad, and no, I’m not sorry. Take it or leave it, I don’t care.”
He shot a quick glance toward the entrance of the restaurant, probably to check that Timothy was gone and out of earshot. Arms rigid against his sides, lips so tight they appeared white, Garrett then glared at her.
“Have you had carnal knowledge of that man?”
Chapter 6
Garrett scowled, she felt like grinning. Or kissing him. Or dancing on top of a hill like Julie Andrews in ‘The Sound of Music.’
“What’s it to you anyway?” she asked with a sharp tone that didn’t seem to affect him in the least. When he spoke, ice cubes could have come out of his mouth.
“Have you or have you not?”
“What do you think, Garrett? Can you picture Timothy making love to me? Can you imagine my cries of pleasure when he takes me? Do you suppose he crawls out of my bed like a coward once he’s done with me?”
Garrett looked caught between rage and frustration. Before he could take his pick, she stepped past him.
“Now,” she said, “if that’s all you had to ask, I’ll go tell Dad that Timothy is taking me home. Goodnight.”
She walked back into the restaurant, legs trembling but head high, and went straight for her father. Sitting alone at their table, his plate empty, he looked like a man well fed and happy with life. She didn’t need to ask. She already knew he had dispelled her earlier outburst from his mind.
As her dad licked his lips while he took hold of the menu, she also sensed he hoped for a good dessert. He didn’t notice her presence until she grabbed her own jacket and purse from the back of the chair.
“Tracy, darling,” he said, “your food is growing cold. It’s a pity, this fish is delicious. Won’t you sit down? I might have a pastry myself.”
Bingo. Right on the dot. No remorse there, not a hint of resentment. Only selfishness and a sweet tooth.
“I’m tired, Dad. I’m going home.”
“Already? But you haven’t touched your food. Are you feeling sick? And where the heck is Garrett?”
For a brief instant, she toyed with the appealing idea of expressing her fuddled feelings. Yet she felt positive her father wouldn’t understand the depth of her emotion, nor even try to. And she couldn’t be bothered.
“I’m fine, Dad, and I’m sure Garrett will be back in a minute. Enjoy your evening, I’ll come by your house tomorrow morning.”
“Won’t you say goodbye to Garrett? That boy seemed to be in a hurry to get back to London, he might not be here in the morning.”
“Then give him a message for me,” she replied. “Tell him we’ll meet again in another life. That should cheer him up.”
Her father raised his eyebrows but didn’t inquire further as he watched her beckoning to Tim. They met at the restaurant’s door and exchanged jackets. With his arm around her shoulder, he took her outside. She didn’t try to locate Garrett. Instead, she stared straight ahead toward the street.
They got into Timothy’s car and she let him drive along Bridgeway while she observed the vast expanse of water stretching to her left. When he turned right toward Main Street, she touched his arm.
“Tim, could you do me a favor?”
“Anything. What’s on your mind?”
“Can you take me to Bonita Street? I wanna stay there tonight, but please don’t tell Dad or Garrett.”
Timothy glanced her way to shoot her a quizzical look, his attention drawn away from the road ahead.
“Sure, Tracy. What’s the big secret?”
“No secret. I left some stuff at Dad’s house that I’ll need tomorrow morning before going to the gallery. I just don’t want him to know I’m in the house because we had that fight at the restaurant. Believe me, I’m really not in the mood to apologize to him. I’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.”
“Father and daughter, not easy every day, is it?”
She nodded as he changed directions without further comment. He made a U-turn, swerved into the right street and five minutes later, parked his car in the middle of the Richardson’s house driveway.
“Thanks,” she said. “Promise you won’t tell Dad or Garrett.”
“Nah, don’t worry. Besides, they won’t even notice me. I need to get back to Skoma’s, but I’ll be quiet as a mouse.”
What would she do without Timothy’s unwavering support? Heart warmed, she leaned in to kiss his cheek.
“Thanks again, Tim, I’ll see you later. Drive safely now.”
“Will do.”
He waved before backing up as soon as she shut the car door. She let herself into the foyer, mind racing, blood pumping with excitement as her most recent idea threatened to take control of her common sense.
So many things to do in so little time. Her father might skip dessert after all so he and Garrett wouldn’t be long coming home. As Lord Burnes-Mister Stuck-up told her long ago, ‘time was of the essence.’
She dashed upstairs to her old bedroom and quickly discarded her evening shoes to put on sneakers. When she was done, she opened her jewelry box. Her fingers hovered over the silver necklace she’d used all those months ago to cross dimensions. It didn’t work anymore, but its preciousness remained.
Would she really go through with this? Uneasiness crept along her bones, forcing her to question her spontaneous plan a while longer. But the feel of the cold metal under her thumb spurred her on. She shut the lid a little too hard, the sharp sound reminding her of what she’d decided and must do.
Back downstairs, into the kitchen, she grabbed a few slices of whole grain bread along with some cheese and a bottle of mineral water. She retrieved a flashlight from a drawer and checked the batteries. Hands full, she twisted her body to switch off the kitchen lights with her elbow.
She stood in the dark, listening to the willow trees rustling in the breeze. What was she doing? Why did she always come up with ridiculous schemes? More to the point, why did she have to see them through?
The purring noise of a car engine fast approaching drowned out the song of the wind. Silently cursing, she ran past the stairs to the child-size closet her mother had furnished under the staircase.
She had to put the bottle of water on the floor to open the small door. Used as a storage place, the closet mostly contained gardening tools, a few brooms, and cardboard boxes stuffed with old crap.
Flashlight in hand, she pushed some boxes around to give herself more room. She picked up the bottle, wriggled inside the closet and managed to sit on an old, low stool of some kind. Just in time.
As she pulled the small door inward, her father and Garrett set foot into the house. The door clicked and lights came on.
“How about a nightcap, my boy?” her dad asked with a cheerful tone. “We have matters to discuss.”
“As you wish, sir.”
“Follow me.”
Heart out of beat, she waited until she heard them pouring drinks and settling down on the living room couch. She left the closet door barely ajar and was able to overhear everything from her vantage point.
She turned off the flashlight and started nibbling her food as quietly as possible. Storming out of the restaurant with an empty stomach turned out to be a stupid idea. Now she had to fill her belly, alone and cramped in a dark, stuffy place. Still, she listened to her father and Garrett while chewing.