William's Blood

by S S Bazinet

  Arel let out a small sneer. “We both know that no matter what you plant, your garden will be something spectacular.”

  Michael put the catalog down. “Thank you, but I’d like to talk about—“

  “My plans for London?” Arel unzipped his bag and flipped it open.

  “You just dropped William off at the airport yesterday. Now you’re leaving this afternoon.”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Are you sure you should be doing this? The man you’ll be pursuing is very dangerous.”

  “What choice do I have? I can’t let him kill William.”

  “But there’s more to it. You seem to be enjoying this venture.”

  Arel tried not to smile, but he knew Michael didn’t miss anything. “And what if I am? You’re always advising me to lighten up.”

  “This isn’t the movies, Arel. This man has killed many times. He’s very good at what he does, and he won’t think twice about taking you out of the picture.”

  “He’s not going to get the chance. You’ll be there, acting as my sidekick. We’ll be partners.”

  “Being a partner doesn’t always work out. In the past—”

  “Michael, for goodness sake, do you think I’m going to shut you out when I’m facing a murderer?” He offered up his most earnest face. “I promise you, I have no desire to die at this point. Just the opposite. That’s why I look excited. I’m finally ready to live. My ties with William are a thing of the past, and I’m finally able to pursue my own agenda.”

  “Isn’t this person you’re going after William’s problem?”

  “Hey, the guy wants me dead too. That makes him my problem.”

  “Nothing I say is going to make you change your mind, is it?”

  Arel turned away and went back to the closet. “Believe me, I take everything you say very seriously. And you can be my advisor every step of the way.”

  “Good, then as your advisor, I’m advising you to reconsider.”

  As Arel reached out for a set of slack hangers, his hand stilled in mid grasp. Michael’s words made his jaw tighten. Suddenly Carey’s need for freedom made more sense. Or was he being obstinate and irresponsible like the younger man could be? “I hear your advice and appreciate it, Michael—”

  “But?”

  Arel’s hand closed on the hangers. “But we need to check a few things out. We’ll go to London, get a bead on what the guy’s up to, and we’ll take it from there.”

  “We?”

  “That’s right, you and me.” Arel put the clothes on the bed and picked a piece of lint off his favorite, grey wool slacks. After William’s comment about bringing his wardrobe up to date, he’d found the pants featured on a stylish, Italian website for men’s clothing. “What do you think? Do you think a half dozen pair will be enough if we’re there for awhile? Never mind, if I take too many what difference does it make?”

  Michael stood up and walked to the door. He paused in the doorway. “I suppose it’s settled then.”

  Arel could feel Michael’s eyes drilling into him, forcing him to stop and turn around. “Anything else?”

  “After your brother issues, I know you’re trying to be totally independent, but—”

  “Can’t you see I’m doing everything I can to remain positive, to do something that doesn’t involve my guilt or an emotional slide into hell?” Arel crossed his arms and let a frown settle in. “It’s not easy for me to look at the bright side, but I’m giving it my best. Support me, Michael. Don’t try to find fault with everything I’m doing.”

  “I am trying to support you. And I’m happy that you’re feeling more positive, but pursuing a killer—”

  “Gives me purpose! And it also gives me a chance to prove to myself that I’m not just a self-centered jerk.”

  “I hope you meant it when you said that I’m your partner.”

  “Your blood is in my veins. If that doesn’t make us partners, what does?”

  Fifty-Five

  ROLPHE SAT AT his easel and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror that he’d purchased for Dantela. She liked to play with her reflection. But when he saw himself, he had to still his brush. His face was anything but playful. He’d been told more than once that he looked like an oversized, syndicate boss when he scowled. His reflection bore out the statement. His brows were hooded. His mouth was downturned and there was a coldblooded, ruthless quality to his eyes. “Holy mother, I scare myself,” he scoffed as he threw his brush in a container of turpentine.

  The canvas in front of him was disjointed and chaotic. The colors were muddied. There was none of the flow he wanted and needed. It was his fifth attempt at painting that week.

  Another piece of shit.

  He stood up and steadied his gaze. How could he concentrate on beauty? His mind was at the planning table, mapping out concrete details on how to kill two men. His soul was in hiding.

  Where the hell are the bastards?

  He quickly walked out of the studio, shutting the door behind him. Dantela was asleep in her basket. He’d make sure she stayed there. As he traversed the long hall, he avoided the portraits of his family. What would his wife say about what he was doing? She had never understood any kind of violence, not even taking the life of a chicken. Killing was always his job.

  And I want it over and done with.

  He was tired of the whole business, but he couldn’t let it go. William started the mess. He was the one who opened up Pandora’s box.

  Sorry, William, but it’s the end of the line for you and your friend.

  When he got to the living room, he stretched out his body, trying to release the tension from long hours at the easel. Waiting felt like such a waste of time.

  The longer his life was on hold, the more difficult it was to be patient. But he had to calm himself if he was going to find his quarry. He sat down on the sofa and lit a candle. It was time for his nightly ritual. At least it was easy to tune into the information he was seeking. He didn’t even need the moon at this point. Once he cleared his mind and focused on London, he intuitively knew whether or not William was there.

  He stared at the flame, watching it flicker, letting it draw his thoughts to that still, clear space where his usual perception fell away. He was just starting to achieve a state of calm, when a face from the past appeared. He gasped in surprise. “Chessa, is it you?”

  It had been so long since he’d seen the woman from his past. Shortly after her death, Chessa appeared to him in his dreams. Like a kind mother, she encouraged him not to despair, but the dreams stopped after the first couple of years.

  “My child! My dearest child.” Now Chessa’s voice was edged with anxiety.

  He blinked back with alarm. It was true. He was her child of sorts. She’d suckled him with her special blood. But she only addressed him in that way when there was trouble.

  “What is it? Why are you here after so many years?”

  Her dark features were almost lost in shadow, but there was a feeling about her. It was troubled and sad. “Be careful, Rolphe! The men you’re looking for can hurt you! Be especially aware of the one with golden eyes!”

  He smiled. “They’re both back in London, aren’t they?”

  “Yes.”

  Fifty-Six

  AFTER WILLIAM GOT back to his home in London, he wasn’t prepared for the new Annabel. He liked the idea of an independent woman, but something had changed between them. When he’d been ill, Annabel had hovered over him with concern. Now, she barely noticed him. In the days that followed his return, he was treated like just another fixture in the house, something to dust and put back on the shelf. His silver vase got more attention. As he watched Annabel carefully rubbing its surface, he would have settled for a little polishing, a little smile of encouragement, or a hand reaching out in a gesture of simple friendship.

  Did I misinterpret the look in her eyes before I left, the way she touched me and let her hand linger? When I spoke to her on the phone, she was so excit
ed about my coming home.

  His homecoming was still a sore point. It was dismal, a quick and polite hello, followed by a scurrying movement in favor of laundry. After that, things didn’t improve.

  Annabel's communication was strictly practical. That afternoon, her total conversation was delivered in one sentence. “Do you need your shades drawn?”

  William would have appreciated something along the lines of, “My, you’re a handsome man, William. Do you know you take my breath away every time you look at me?”

  Okay, that was asking for too much at this stage, but he could hope it was a future possibility, especially when he was doing all the things he needed to do to show her his intentions. After withholding any sign of affection in the past, he now gave her a full demonstration of how pleased he was to see her whenever she passed by. He smiled at her and even tried to make conversation about the weather.

  The weather, for god’s sake! How pathetic is that?

  As time passed, he’d become bolder and more obvious. When she came out of the bath, he told her how beautiful she looked. He even waited for her to reply, like some moony-eyed teenager. But her ‘Thank you’ had as much appreciation as a phone recording that told you the person wasn’t home. The words had a flippant, dismissive quality that repeated in his mind every time he thought about her lovely, smooth skin or her gorgeous body. She kept that covered up too, wearing baggy, dreary clothes that she must have borrowed from her overweight granny while he was gone. Where were those pretty slacks that she wore with the lime green blouse? At least those clothes allowed some evidence of a shapely woman instead of an aged resident of a retirement home.

  What the hell is going on with her?

  The question repeated over and over, but there were no answers, just lingering days of growing desire on his part, and total neutrality on Annabel’s.

  Fifty-Seven

  IT WAS MONDAY night and the pub was quieter than usual, just as Kevin hoped it would be. He nudged Tim who sat next to him at the bar. “Thanks for getting me out for a drink. I needed to talk to somebody.” He took a sip of beer, then glanced at his watch. “Do you think the girls will mind if we’re gone more than an hour?”

  “No, they looked happy to get rid of us. They enjoy their ‘girl time.’ But what’s going on? You seem a little jumpy.”

  “Me? Carol is the one who’s a bundle of energy. Now that William is gone, she needs a mission. In the meantime, I’m left holding the bag.”

  Tim’s brows arched. “What kind of mission?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think she knows either, but she better find something soon before she blows a gasket.”

  “She’s usually so quiet.”

  Kevin drained his glass and sagged down on his stool. “The old Carol is gone.” He swallowed hard. “You know that I’m not one to discuss, you know . . . bedroom matters, but she’s become—”

  Tim gave him a sideways smile. “Your face is turning red.”

  “Don’t laugh. This is serious.”

  “Does she want to try for a baby again?”

  “No, she says she wants to . . . oh hell, forget it.”

  “What?”

  “She wants to ‘experiment.’”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Hell, I don’t know. I’ve kind of been putting her off. I’m not a prude or anything, but I don’t feel comfortable with the way she’s acting. That outfit she bought was . . . well it was definitely not Carol.”

  “Maybe you’re more of a prude than you realize. There’s nothing wrong with a bit of fun.”

  “I agree, but a person doesn’t just suddenly change. Carol’s always been conservative.”

  “Maybe you’re over reacting. When you two came over on Saturday, she looked fine. In fact, we ended up having a nice conversation about that old Harley I used to have.”

  “Yeah, I know. And when we got back home, she told me she might ask Carey to take her out for a spin on his old junker. That’s not my Carol talking. She’s afraid of speed.”

  “She’s just pleased with herself. William made a real turnaround after she started taking care of him. You should be proud of her.”

  “I am, if it stopped there. But what if she keeps changing, and I can’t keep up?”

  Tim clapped Kevin on the back. “I have my old helmet in the garage. Maybe you’ll have to show Carol that you can keep up.”

  * * * * *

  Carol sat in Peggy’s living room. Little Ariel was enjoying himself nearby. He sat on a blanket on the floor, very preoccupied with his task of retrieving tiny bits of apple from a plastic bowl in front of him. Every once in a while, he’d look up at her with bright blue eyes and a face that expressed pure contentment. She sighed quietly. “Our babies are growing up so fast.”

  Peggy smiled as she put Sara in the playpen with a bottle of juice. “I know. Sara’s crawling skills are amazing. She was out of the bedroom before I knew it yesterday. I swear, I folded two shirts, and she was gone. Thank goodness for gates.”

  “And thank goodness that Kevin went out for a beer with Tim. He hasn’t been himself.”

  Peggy giggled. “Look who’s talking.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t you know how different you’ve been since William was here?”

  “No.” Carol looked down, pleased with herself even though she’d just told a lie. It was so nice not to have to be agreeable all the time. Still, she didn’t want to be difficult. “I mean, I guess I’m a little different.”

  Peggy laughed again as she sat down on the loveseat and tucked her feet up next to her. “I think it’s wonderful.”

  “You do?”

  “Every person should enjoy life. And I think that’s what you want to do.”

  “Kevin doesn’t say anything, but he looks at me like I’ve run amok. When I showed him a sexy, black teddy I found at the mall, he just stared at me with his mouth hanging open. It was embarrassing.”

  “Kevin is always behind the times. Don’t pay him any attention.”

  “Maybe it was too much, too soon. When we were first together, I guess I was the one who was a little reserved. I hadn’t done much dating, and I didn’t always feel comfortable with—”

  “With what?”

  Carol sighed. “You know me, Peggy. I’ve always been the type that colors inside the lines. So anyway, I thought that Kevin might like it if we tried something different in the bedroom. Nothing too extreme, just something that might be a little more exciting for both of us. So I showed him this book with some pictures—”

  Peggy’s eyes flared. “Pictures? Really? Did Kevin go nuts and ravish you?”

  “No, he just sat there and got very quiet. When I put the book aside, he got up and asked if I’d like some hot chocolate. I think I scared him.”

  “Just don’t stop what you’re doing. It’s good for both of you. Life gets very stagnant if you never try anything new. Kevin will come around.”

  “Do you think so?”

  Peggy gave her a playful look. “I know so. Tim and I had to go through a similar stage a couple of years ago. Now we’re much more comfortable with each other.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  “So why do you think you’re making these sudden changes? Does it have anything to do with William?”

  “Maybe. Once he was feeling better, we talked. He spoke with so much confidence when we discussed things like the places he’s visited and things that he’s done. Just being around somebody who has so much courage to live life with so much enthusiasm was inspiring. But there was something else, something I learned about myself.”

  When she hesitated, Peggy leaned forward. “What? Tell me.”

  “After the miscarriage, I was so down on myself. Then I felt this connection to William, like he was a friend I forgot I had. And when I thought about him dying, I knew I couldn’t let that happen. Something in me rallied. I was determined to hold on to him no matter what.”

  “And
you did! Be proud of yourself.”

  “You helped too.”

  “But I was more on the sidelines. When it was my turn to keep watch, William would wake up and keep glancing at the clock, waiting for you to take over. He never verbalized it, but I know he needed you more than me.”

  Carol felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment. “Why? Why would he want me there?”

  Peggy smiled. “You don’t know how strong you are, do you? But William felt your strength. I’m sure of it.”

  “That’s good.”

  “It’s more than good, Carol! Your strength helped William find his way back from a very dark place.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say that you’re proud of who you are.”

  Carol paused and looked at baby Ariel again. The fair haired tot was still eating and banging on the bowl between bites. “I love my family, but I’ve had so many doubts. I guess I felt capable enough before I married Kevin, but afterwards, I slipped back into some old patterns. I was afraid I wasn’t up to being the wife and mother I wanted to be.”

  “Well, I hope you see things differently now.”

  “I’m beginning to. I have hope that life can be better for all of us. Maybe that’s why I bought the teddy and the book. I wanted to prove that I can move on. I can be a person who’s not stuck in the past.”

  “You have moved on. I can see it in your face and hear it in your voice.” Peggy giggled. “But you’ll have to wait a little for Kevin to catch up. He’s kind of slow when it comes to change.”

  Carol laughed too. “Maybe I’ll hide that book for a little while.”

  “Yes, perhaps you should, but don’t be surprised if he doesn’t go looking for it one of these days.”

  Fifty-Eight

  AREL LOOKED OUT of the window of the upper story, London hotel room. The street below was a sea of umbrellas and dreariness. He hated the weather, and he hated waiting. Michael didn’t seem to have his problem.

  The tall angel seemed oblivious to the weather. Instead, he always found something to keep him occupied. Currently he was focused on a large arrangement of fresh flowers the hotel had placed in their room. Arel had to clear his throat a couple of times to get his attention. “Foul weather and a killer on the loose, what a nice combination we’re facing here in London.”