The Severed Thread

by Dione C. Suto

  “Of course not!” Samantha interjected, affronted. “Abigail doesn’t take drugs.”

  His words caused a slack jawed reaction. Of course! The horror of dawning understanding ricocheted around my mind. Drugs. That would explain my unusual reaction when I followed the energy signature in the second container. I had focused on the energy signature and like Alice, I had gotten sucked down the proverbial rabbit hole. Not only had I found McCallister’s missing Sapphire but it had imbued its special brand of inhibition on me. Additionally complicating matters was the knowledge that it was already being distributed. This left me with no hope of recovering the entire shipment. Shit, shit, shit!

  McCallister and I had not worked out terms for a partial retrieval of the lost merchandise. I had a feeling that even if I could find any of the Sapphire that had not already been circulated, a partial return was not an option. On the other hand, if I could identify the other party involved in the theft, I might have some leverage for improving my terms for the next twelve months. Either way, this was not the outcome that I had been counting on. I looked through half lowered lids at the coldly handsome face boldly staring at me. I closed my eyes and swallowed heavily, my face still hot with embarrassment.

  Did I really just grope Liam McCallister? I sighed as I realized that things were now looking even bleaker for Abigail Lassiter.

  “I imagine she does not make a habit of groping men in cargo containers either,” he replied harshly to Samantha while never taking his eyes from me. I, on the other hand, couldn’t take my eyes off the wispy black tendrils that roiled around him as his anger increased.

  “But it would explain why she was all over me a moment ago when she previously couldn’t get away from me fast enough.” He was still looking at me although I couldn’t accurately interpret his expression. Anyone that has lived for hundreds of years was bound to have perfected their poker face.

  I pushed myself away from the wall, trying to pull myself together. I looked back at him to find his eyes still on me, obviously waiting for an explanation.

  “I was investigating the possible whereabouts of your missing merchandise.”

  “I am not sure I see the connection between your behavior just now, your dilated pupils and investigating,” he replied dryly.

  “I wish I didn’t either,” I muttered. More loudly I asked, “What are you doing here anyway?” It was a futile attempt to change the topic away from me and of course, the groping. I definitely did not want to talk about that!

  “I have come to get a progress report,” he informed me imperiously.

  “And you knew where to find me, how?” I asked, trying to keep him in the hot seat for as long as possible.

  “The same way the two agents who are on their way here know how to find you. We are both having you followed. My people are just a bit faster and stealthier. Now,” he said abruptly, “in the brief amount of time we have, I want an update.”

  Thank God we had moved on to the progress report and away from me wanting to lick him. I stood up straighter; this was going to be tricky.

  “If you noted the container number on your way in, you may have noticed that it was nearly the same as the tracking number you gave me with the exception of one digit.”

  The hurry up wave he gave me seemed to indicate that I should continue, so I did.

  “I don’t believe that the Sapphire was ever in the container you opened. Instead, I think that the container numbers were changed after you oversaw the loading in Panama. The Sapphire was in this container waiting to be unloaded while you were searching the other container.

  “Can you confirm this?”

  This was where I had to be careful. I did not want to explain that I was an unregistered Locator. The last thing I needed was for him to have something else to hold over my head.

  “Unfortunately, no,” I lied. “It’s just a hunch.”

  McCallister’s lips compressed in dissatisfaction. He glanced over at Lok who was standing at the door of the container with Samantha. He shook his head.

  Before I could take another breath I found myself thrust against the wall behind me. McCallister’s hand was at my throat, the ridged metal wall pressing painfully into my back. His eyes were two glittering coals within the murky gloom of his rage. He leaned down and ran his nose along the sensitive line of my neck. He was scenting me. I was terrified but at that same instant a spike of wild arousal shot through me. My traitorous body was responding while my mind was screaming for me to run.

  “I suggest you do not lie to me again Abigail,” he purred softly, his lips mere millimeters from my ear. I was unable to suppress the shiver caused by the little wisp of air his words sent across my earlobe. Elves have notoriously sensitive ears, a fact I was sure he knew. It was infuriating to realize that he was intentionally provoking me.

  “My patience is worn thin and you smell shockingly delicious,” he continued, before releasing me with a slow slide of his hands down my arms. When he finally stepped back, he smiled at me, displaying a pair of savage white fangs. “It has been a long while since I have had an elf as an aperitif. Especially one so liberally spiced with the heady tang of arousal.” This was becoming an increasingly humiliating encounter. Lok must be able to scent deception. That information fell under the heading of ‘Would have been nice to know before I lied.’

  “I would appreciate it if you would keep your hands to yourself in the future,” I insisted primly while straightening my clothes. I needed to get this back on some type of professional footing.

  “You are not doing a very good job of keeping this on the topic of the merchandise and away from the groping. That is what you were attempting to do, is it not?” The darkness surrounding him retreated almost as quickly as it had appeared.

  “Alright,” I groaned. I had come to the conclusion that it was time to fold like any good poker player when it was obvious your opponent has a much stronger hand. “I can confirm that the Sapphire was in the second container.”

  “How?”

  “I’m an unregistered Locator.” McCallister’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. I was sure I would regret that admission later but right now, I did not have any other options.

  “Well, well, well, aren’t you just full of surprises this evening. Go on,” he said with a flick of his hand.

  “I made Location attempts in both containers. The tracking number you supplied is for a shipment of bananas. They are currently in a chilling room here at the terminal,” I explained. I did not want to tell him the next part but I knew I was going to have to come clean with that information as well since Lok was closely monitoring my replies.

  “And this container?” he prompted impatiently.

  “Contained the items you were looking for.” He cast another glance at Lok who responded with a nod to confirm my truthful answer. I felt my stomach knotting in anticipation of the news I still had to impart.

  “And were you able to pinpoint its current location?”

  “I got sidetracked before I had it completely pinned down,” I answered, blushing at the memory of our earlier detour. “But I can probably figure it out.”

  “Is there anything else?” I can’t explain how tempting it was to just say: No, that’s it. Unfortunately I knew that Lok, the walking lie-detector, was sure to expose my deception before the words had finished falling from my lips.

  “Yes,” I said reluctantly, knowing that this could get ugly. Fast. “The merchandise is currently being distributed and used.”

  Samantha gasped. “Oh, no,” she whispered, covering her mouth with her hand.

  “Oh no, indeed,” McCallister replied. “That was not the update I was hoping for.” He paced to the other end of the container and quickly circled back to where I was standing. He looked at me for what seemed like an eternity while I tried not to squirm under the scrutiny.

  “What?” I asked, unable to stand it any longer. He leaned forward to speak softly into my ear.

  “I take it you were feeli
ng the effects of the Sapphire a few moments ago?” Okay, so not the ballistic response I had expected.

  “Yes,” I replied, coloring again at the memory as he leaned back away from me. “I believe that is what happened.”

  “Odd,” he mused still looking at me. Completely unreal was more like it.

  “I may be able to recover a portion of the shipment,” I offered in an attempt to change the subject.

  “We did not negotiate for a partial return,” he reminded me. “Our agreement was that you would find the missing merchandise, or provide twelve months of future… assistance,” he said carefully, eyes flicking meaningfully to Samantha.

  “Can we renegotiate if I can locate the parties involved?”

  “What to do?” he mused aloud before going completely motionless. Seconds later he reanimated and offered me an unfathomable look. “I will be in touch Abigail, but right now I must go. You have more callers and they will be arriving soon.”

  With that he and Lok were gone.

  I looked at Samantha with wild eyes before scrambling out of the container. We immediately started shutting the doors, both of us instinctively understanding that if the agents found us loitering in a shipping container, we would have to fabricate an incredibly creative story for what we were doing. I was not sure I had the energy for that type of spontaneous fiction right now.

  We got the doors shut and hustled down the dock. It was a good thing that shifters and elves were fast. We just made it to the main thoroughfare when the sound of footsteps could be heard ringing in the silence.

  “Naris?” I sent silently.

  “Abigail.”

  “Can you help me with something?”

  “I believe I already have.”

  “Huh”

  “You wanted me to erase your scent trail leading back to the shipping containers, correct?”

  “Yes”

  “It is done.”

  “Thank you Naris.”

  “You are most welcome Abigail Lassiter.” Seconds later Agent Smathon and McCabe came into view.

  “Ms. Lassiter, Ms. Goldwater, we were told you were out here somewhere but I just could not believe it,” intoned Agent Smathon in his nasally drawl.

  “It seems your information was correct,” I replied dryly. “You wouldn’t be having me followed, would you?”

  “Can you explain what you are doing out here so late? Being at the port at nearly midnight seems like a bad choice, even for an elf and a wolf,” probed Agent McCabe. I noticed he did not confirm or deny that he was having me tailed.

  “Actually Agent McCabe, I don’t think I really need to explain anything. I’m not trespassing and I notified the Port Authority that I wanted to come out here tonight.” Thankfully I had already thought about having to explain myself earlier today.

  “That is in fact why I’m here. I called them earlier with some questions and they told me that you were coming to meet with the captain of the Lassiter Tempest tonight.”

  “Yes, we met with Captain Suterman. We were just walking back.” No sense in being completely uncooperative. To appear deceptive and uncomfortable would just make them more dogged in their investigation of our activities.

  “We just came from talking to Captain Suterman ourselves,” Agent Smathon informed me. “He said you left a little over an hour ago.” Of course he did.

  “An hour is a long time. What have you been doing out here?” Agent McCabes asked.

  “We were talking,” Samantha said. “We were reminiscing about Jason and just lost track of the time. I don’t think there is a crime in that.”

  “No definitely no crime in reminiscing. If that is what you were actually doing,” Agent Smathon said doubtfully. I saw his tongue slip out between his lips. It was long and forked. Gross! Just what I needed, another predator trying to scent deception.

  I took a deep calming breath to slow my heart rate and shake off any lingering adrenaline from my encounter with McCallister. I was hoping that Samantha was doing the same. Being outside in the air would help but it would not completely mask our exertions. I especially, needed to keep my distance from the agents and was thankful to note that we were upwind of the two. The last thing I wanted was for them to scent vampire on me.

  “It has been a long two days gentlemen. I would like to take my friend home now. That is, unless there was something you actually wanted.”

  “Nothing in particular. Just following leads.”

  We headed for the gate and I was sure they did a bloodhound routine and tried to sniff out where we had been. Thankfully Naris had fixed that problem for me.

  By the time I got home and settled into bed, I had already received two texts from McCallister. One telling me he had enjoyed our little rendezvous earlier – cheeky bastard. And another with information about a meeting at his house the following evening to discuss our path forward. Onward with the next shipment I supposed.

  Apparently I was expected to report to the Clan Home at sunset which according to the message would occur at precisely six forty-seven. I guess when you were a vampire, the precise time of true dark was more pressing then observing normal social structures. He couldn’t have just asked me to arrive at six forty-five or seven? Uncertain what to expect, I spent the entire following day alternately worrying about my visit to the Clan home, and how I was going to manage pulling off an illegal shipment of Sapphire. At the moment, both things seemed equally daunting.

  Chapter 12

  Jason’s funeral was scheduled to be held in two days and my mother needed all the help she could get. I was going over to my parent’s home this morning to run through the details of the funeral with the staff. Hopefully Aunt Gracie was also planning to help.

  I arrived just before 9 am and as usual was greeted by Thomas at the gate. After parking, I stood in the drive a few minutes looking up at the house. Every time I came here it brought back memories of Jason. Our favorite climbing tree was peeking over the roof to my right all decked out it reds and ochre, its leaves scattered across the driveway from the early autumn breeze. I reached down and picked up two leaves that were still attached to each other at the base of their stems. I gently twirled them in my hand as I looked up at the second story window of Jason’s old room. I absently rubbed my chest, trying to banish the hollow feeling that had settled there. I looked down at the leaves in my hands thoughtfully before placing them carefully on the passenger seat of the car.

  I entered the house through the foyer, which was abuzz with activity. The chandelier was lowered for dusting and the staff was polishing and buffing every surface. The dinner following the funeral would be held here, so everyone was making certain that the house reflected the best that was Lassiter.

  Today I found my mother and Aunt Gracie in the kitchen reviewing the menu with the cook. From what I could overhear, it sounded like the quail my father had requested was going to be difficult to obtain on such short notice, but they were trying. I found it irksome that he had requested something be served that Jason so heartily detested.

  “Why not serve poussin instead?” I suggested. “It’s usually always available, and it was one of Jason’s favorites.”

  “Your father wanted the quail,” my mother said in exasperation.

  “I’m sure he did, but it sounds like quail is going to be a problem. And since he is not organizing the food, I suggest we make an executive decision to change the menu.” And the menu change had the added bonus of irritating my father.

  “You’re right dear. Why am I making everyone crazy about the quail?”

  She turned to the cook. “Change it to poussin.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I will order them now.”

  My mother linked her arm with mine before leading me and Aunt Gracie out of the kitchen. “This is why I needed your help,” she told me. “You keep me from getting mired in problems that aren’t really problems at all.”

  “Happy to be of service,” I said smiling at her and Aunt Gracie.

  “I did
try to suggest something different, but no,” my aunt teased, dragging out the word. “It had to come from Abigail to get you to be reasonable.” Aunt Gracie rolled her eyes at me when my mother wasn’t looking.

  “All I know is that you both need to promise not to mention the change to him ahead of time,” I told them. “He will just try to make us change it back and there is not enough time for all that maneuvering. We barely have time to get everything organized as it is now.

  “Agreed,” mother said offering me a conspiratorial wink before her smile slipped to be replaced with tears.

  “It will be okay.” I reached out and folded her into a hug.

  “I just hate the feeling that I am throwing a party instead of a funeral reception. It feels too festive somehow.”

  “I understand your concern,” I sympathized, nodding. “But it isn’t like a regular party. We can make it as somber as you like.” Just then I got the greatest idea. “On the other hand, Jason loved a good party. Aren’t you having a quartet?”

  “Yes,” she said slowly, obviously uncertain where I was going with the question. “Gracie organized it.”

  “Maybe they could play some Jimmy Buffett? An instrumental version of ‘Cheeseburger in Paradise’ sounds perfect. Jason would love the contradiction in it all,” I said with a laugh. “Do you think dad would notice?”

  “Yes,” she huffed. “He would definitely notice. So don’t you even think about it.”

  “It might be fitting though,” Gracie interjected laughing now too. “Quentin would turn absolutely purple in outrage.” Yeah, and he would get that little tick in his right eye.

  By late afternoon we had the rest of the menu finalized, the remaining funeral details wrapped up and the guest list for the private reception at the house settled so that Thomas would know who to allow through the gates. I was exhausted and it was time I headed home. I felt a little guilty about not stopping at the office first but this evenings meeting with McCallister was preying on my mind. A good meditation session seemed more prudent that squeezing in a couple of hours at the office.