Adduné - the Vampire's Game (31 page)

He collapsed onto Miranda’s settee – letting out an exasperated sigh.

“
You can’t kid about certain things Miranda. You just can’t. This is serious. Very serious.”

Miranda waited for Reginald to finish or make sense or both. He did neither. He just kept repeating that it was serious, but what was? Of course, Jake! She didn’t understand why he was so concerned about her seeing Jake – overly concerned, in her opinion. Yes, he was looking out for her own good, but he was taking it too far. Still, she needed to respect what he said. She’d never known him to be dramatic or overly emotional, but his overwrought pleas were lost on her. She wrung her hands and inched closer to him trying to be as forthright as possible in expressing her feelings about Jake Monroe.

“
Reginald, I don’t understand. What’s serious? Jake? Don’t worry about him. He’s not someone I can get serious about because he would never be serious about anyone other than himself. I know that. I’m a big girl and can handle it. You don’t have to worry about me having my heart broken.”

She was in front of him now. He reached out and took her hands, gently pulling her onto the settee. She sat next to him, her eyes indicating interest and real affection. She was a remarkable girl. Just remarkable. He couldn’t let anything happen to her. Arthur would kill him. Arthur? Arthur couldn’t do anything. He was dead. That was the problem. She would have listened to her father, but Reginald? Just a nice family friend, but not an absolute authority figure. It’s why he had to lie to her – lie by omission. Why was it that the most important things that people had to say to each other were the things that went unspoken and unsaid?

“
Miranda, it’s not about Jake. I mean, it is, but it isn’t.”

Miranda closed her eyes giving her head a toss. She was losing patience. She had to catch that plane and to do that she needed to hurry and not dawdle listening to someone that wasn’t making any sense.

“
Reginald, I really do have to hurry so ….”

Reginald interrupted her and spoke in a rushed, fevered tone. He needed to get this out. It was his last chance.

“
Miranda, you remember that egg, you saw? The one you identified as being a Fabergé?”

He had her attention again. She did remember that egg – every exquisite detail. She’d thought about nothing else since seeing it. She was determined to find out its history and whether it was genuine.

“
Well, I believe … I believe your father stole it.”

He hated to cut to the chase, but she was pressing him. The look on her face a short second ago was gone – replaced with one of confusion and astonishment.

“
What? Do you know what you’re saying?”

“
Yes, and I need to get this out. Just before you were born, your father disappeared.”

“
Disappeared? But that’s impossible! Why wouldn’t you have ever mentioned it before?”

“
Because I didn’t remember. It was only a trip. Your father had gone on hundreds of them … and I wanted to blot it out.”

“
But ….

“
Miranda, can you please just listen? If you keep interrupting me, I’ll never get this out.” Her eyes blazed with anger as she crossed her legs. She was going to allow him to finish.

“
I wanted to forget because I knew he was up to no good. Miranda, you know I loved your father almost as much as you did – as much as one friend can love another, but I can’t turn my back on what he was and some of the things he did. It never affected my feelings for him or our relationship, but he took shortcuts and played loose with the law when it meant getting what he wanted. It’s why he deliberately hid what he was doing from me. He knew I would never have approved. All I know is that one day he was there – and the next he was gone. He called me a few days later and said he was shopping for antiques and needed money wired to him. I did that and then I got another call – a more disturbing call. He said he was traveling to Romania.”

“
But why was that disturbing? It’s a very old country and many collectors go there to find lovely …”

Reggie stared into those beautiful brown eyes. He hated to hurt her, but it needed to be done.

“
He said he was hunting vampires.”

Miranda visibly withdrew from Reginald. She looked around the room blinking excitedly.

“
Reginald, I don’t understand. I don’t understand anything about what you’re saying!”

“
Miranda, I’m saying your father must have stolen antiquities and smuggled them into this country. And these are the pieces we’ve sent to Fairfield. There are two people already dead, and William Figgs talked about someone being in Weatherly Manor. I believe the someone that your father stole those antiques finally tracked him down. I further believe that this person wants them back and more. I believe he – or they – are looking for revenge. Don’t you see going to America now would make you vulnerable? You’d be alone with no one around to protect you. You can’t go, Miranda. Not now. Not until we clear this up and find some answers.”

“
But it makes no sense! You told me he had it appraised. Verified by an authority as to its authenticity and that it was deemed a fake!”

“
Fake? What difference does it make? It was somebody’s possession and now it’s not. Would you care if someone broke into your home and only took cheaper items? I’ll answer for you! No, you wouldn’t because that would not be the point, now would it? It’s the fact they broke in and had no business taking anything at all!”

“
And you think father did this? It’s ridiculous!”

Miranda sprang off the small loveseat and started pacing the room. She walked over to her window and held the silk damask curtain in her clutched hand. She looked out at the back garden that was in full bloom trying to assimilate what Reginald told her. Was it true? How could it be? And further, did it mean what Reginald said it did?”

Reginald saw her spine straighten. She spun facing him.

“
Reginald, you are a dear friend. My father returned your affection, but I think you’re wrong. He couldn’t have done what you said and it certainly doesn’t have anything to do with me. Those two deaths were tragic accidents. Haven’t the police ruled them suicides?”

“
Yes, but …”

“
Not, yes, but … just yes! Leave it at that and don’t read any more into than a horrible coincidence.”

Reginald bowed his head and held it in his head.

“
You haven’t heard a word I said.”

“
On the contrary, I’ve listened to everything. I just have another interpretation. I definitely think drugs were involved – at least with that Herbert person, and nothing larger. Think about it, Reginald, if he had been part of plot, all he needed to do was include the candlesticks in the shipment. We would have been none the wiser if they arrived safely in Fairfield, but because they weren’t, this whole ….
thing
got started!”

Reginald made his way to his feet by pressing his hands into his thighs. It acted as a lever. He felt sad and bitterly disappointed, but he wasn’t going to give up. He’d figure something out, but for now, he’d fire his biggest shot – the one he’d held back from saying.

“
You think your father wouldn’t be involved in something this sordid. Well, I disagree with you, but there’s something else going on here. Something foul and powerful. Something that doesn’t care who gets hurt. Something that seizes on the vulnerable and wheedles its way into a person’s imagination and keeps tearing away at it until nothing is left except the need to escape!”

“
Reginald, do stop! You’re scaring me!”

Miranda rubbed her arms as Reginald pounded away.

“
I mean to! You’re forcing me to do something I didn’t want to.”

Miranda froze wondering what he was searching for in his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small packet of folded papers. Were they proof of the allegations he’d made against her father?

Miranda eyed the papers as Reginald handed them to her. She looked down opening the sheets slowly so as not to rip them in haste. She walked over to the window so she’d have more light to read the almost illegible script.

“
The suicide notes! But why? Why are you showing these to me?”

Reginald collapsed on the bed. He was in no mood to fight.

“
Just read them, Miranda. Please.”

The earnestness in his tone forced Miranda to comply. She perused the pages quickly barely breathing – shocked by the content. She shook the notes contemptuously in the air.

“
But it makes no sense! A vampire? And you believe I should take any of these words seriously?”

“
Miranda, Pinckus’ words, the emotion … they’re almost identical with what Figgs said. Why would they be? Don’t you see that it must mean something?”

No, I really don’t and I don’t see that I should care at all,” she snapped as she threw the letters in the small wicker waste paper basket by her vanity. She resumed packing daring Reginald to stop her.

Reginald sprang to his feet and retrieved the notes. He tried one more time to plead with her.

“
You should care because one of these men sent a coffin to America.”

Miranda threw dress shoes into her suitcase. She slammed the lid down and glared at Reginald.

“
So you’re saying that there is a vampire running around … excuse me … I mean, flying around Weatherly Manor? Is that it? Or is that this vampire in America now? Living it up at Fairfield Museum like Pinckus said? Oh, wait! That coffin was empty, but if he wanted to be sent there, shouldn’t he have been in it?” Miranda ran her hands through her hair in frustration. “Oh, why am I trying to make sense of this idiocy! Reginald, don’t tell me that you actually believe these … these … these lies?”

“
Miranda, I’m not saying I do,” Reginald said softening his position. He realized how ridiculous the whole thing sounded. He fully understood why she wasn’t taking the subject of vampires seriously, but she hadn’t talked with Figgs. She hadn’t seen the fear in his eyes. Most of all, she hadn’t had that dream last night ….

“
Then what are you saying?”

“
I’m saying that something is very wrong. First, your father mentioned vampires and now this and … I’m saying that I’m dreadfully worried about you.”

Reginald spoke solemnly. He’d done what he came to do and more. He’d made a fool of himself in Miranda’s eyes, but he didn’t care. He only cared about her. He crossed the room, now at her bedroom door preparing to leave.

Miranda couldn’t stand parting with acrimony in the air. She rushed over to him and threw herself into his arms. She felt his big, bearlike arms around her giving her a fatherly embrace. God, what would she do without Reginald around to make things interesting? She smiled as it hit her flush in the face that he was only trying to help – take the place of the parent that was no longer there.

She gazed up lovingly at him as he kissed her on the top of her head.

“
I’m sorry, Reginald. Thank you for coming here and telling me this. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

He saw her earnest face and ached for the words he needed to get through her resistance. They weren’t there today. He took her small face in his hands.

“
Adduné.”

“
Adduné? What is that?” Miranda said wrinkling her nose.

“
I don’t know, but if you ever hear that word, you run, Miranda. You just turn around and run the other way.”

CHAPTER 19

Miranda settled into her seat – buckling her seatbelt in anticipation of the announcement. She checked her watch. In another two minutes, they’d be taking off for America … and Jake’s open arms. She looked out the window to see if they had moved the stairs away. They hadn’t. She hoped it didn’t mean that the flight was being delayed.

She flipped through the novel she brought along to read during the flight. There was a last minute entry of a passenger just skimming under the wire. She looked at the empty seat next to her and wondered if he were the occupant slated for it. If he were going to be sitting next to her for the transatlantic flight, the least she could do was get a good look. She closed her book and gave him the onceover as he made his way down the aisle. He was tall, blonde – and while handsome – not really her type. He was neatly attired in khakis and a black shirt. A rim of hair fell beneath the slouched fedora whose brim was covering one eye. He had a thickly muscled body and could easily have been a gymnast at one point in his life. Given his height, perhaps he’d outgrown it.