Adduné - the Vampire's Game (55 page)

“
Like I said, I’ve been having horrible dreams. I wished and wished and wished for sleep and then when I got it. I didn’t know I was letting the devil in.”

She sounded cynical, but accepting of her fate. As if a hand reached out of the dirt and grabbed her ankle. While she didn’t want to be pulled under, she wasn’t going to fight it either.

“
I suppose I was curious about what he wrote and what he was saying. It’s why I peeked. I shouldn’t have. I wish he hadn’t told me. I wish I didn’t know, but I do and now he haunts me like he haunted William. I did want to tell you. It’s just that … I’m not sure how you’ll react. My mind does wander. Always has,” she said chuckling placing the cup in her lap. “You know, Mr. Charles, my William used to like to hide out from me. Don’t know if you know that. Many a times he’d spend more time at Weatherly than he had to. I knew it wasn’t really because of me so, I never got angry or even mentioned it. He needed his private time away. Men require that sort of thing, don’t they? You probably do, too. It’s why men feel the need to carouse pubs or hang out with other men – have studies. Built-in need to be alone. Women … we women can’t get close enough.”

She stared into the distance as if reliving the past only because she had no future. Reginald fingered the envelope. It was so tempting to open it, but he couldn’t disrespect Beatrice even if she were being ridiculous. What information could it contain? Reginald knew everything Willie did.

A breeze from an open window in the living room blew in sending the lace curtain lightly up in the air. Instead of being vertical, it now stretched out horizontally, billowing towards the pair drinking tea. The breeze was surprisingly cold. The hand Reginald used to hold the dainty cup began shaking. More stray locks were loosened from Beatrice’s bun. It flew into her face and eyes.

“
Goodness! Where on earth did that come from?” she remarked smoothing her hair back and standing. She hugged her shoulders.

“
My, that is cold, isn’t it?”

“
Yes, quite unusual for this time of year, but this is England.”

“
True enough, sir, but just to be safe.”

Another blasted interruption. He marked time as Beatrice hobbled to close the window. She tried to straighten the tangled mess of curtains – as if it mattered. His best guess is that it mattered to her. Her fingers couldn’t seem to untwist the two panels that resembled a Maypole.

She rejoined Reginald and took another agonizing gulp of tea before beginning. Her eyes fluttered as she tried to focus on Reginald. She seemed to be fighting off deep sleep. Damn those pills.

“
I haven’t forgotten about you. I suppose, as William used to like to say, I’m avoiding the issue. He always said that to me and I’m afraid it’s true. Even now when death stares me in the face each night.”

Now it was Reginald that fidgeted. He didn’t want to talk about her dreams. They reminded him of his dreams and that’s what he was trying to forget. He had thought that the answer Willie would provide would give closure and make them go away, but he doubted that hypothesis. There was nothing Willie could have said that was going to make a difference. The dreams were there. The strange man was there. He was probably going after Miranda. That was his sense and Reginald had to stop him from seeking revenge. Why on earth had Arthur done something so completely insane as to start this war? Over what? An egg that he couldn’t even sell because of how he’d obtained it. It was worthless as was this excursion.

“
I’m so sorry for delaying this. I can see how nervous you’re getting and I don’t want to keep you. I know you’re a busy man. I was so hoping you could help me, too, but you can’t if you haven’t been having any dreams. But will you start? I don’t know. I’m not that clever. I only know William told me to give you the letter. I read it and I’ll always regret doing that, but maybe it was for the best because I know you loved Mr. Perry so much. Everyone did. It’s why my William held back on what he said.”

Reginald grimaced at the mention of Arthur’s name. What did he have to do with this? Yes, he started this with that foolish trip, but what did he have to do with Willie?

“
Arthur Perry? I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re saying, Beatrice. What does Arthur Perry have to do with what your husband wrote down?”

“
The amount of words I need to say are so few and yet ... ” she stopped speaking yet again – shaking her head in confusion.

Reginald was getting impatient again. He just wanted her to spit it out. And the damned room had decreased in temperature. Reginald blew into his hands and rubbed them together. The cold was making him more tired. He felt like yawning, but didn’t. It would seem so rude and he didn’t want to insult the woman who was going through a tough time.

She tugged at the thin pink sweater draped on the back of the rocker. She fiddled with it as she wrapped it around her. She kept her eyes downward as she spoke.

“
It was Arthur Perry.”

Even when she spoke, she didn’t seem to say anything. Or perhaps Reginald hadn’t heard her. What had she said about Arthur?

“
What? I’m afraid I don’t understand what you said, Beatrice.”

She signed heavily and started again. As if the act of speaking was draining too much strength from the energy it took to die.

“
I said that that’s what William couldn’t say to you. It’s all there, in that note. He clearly says that your good friend, his employer, Mr. Arthur Perry was the vampire. That’s what William wanted you to know. You can see how he’d been reluctant to say it. And me … I’m sorry about saying it also. I know it must hurt.”

Reginald stayed with his eyes locked on Beatrice trying to distinguish what was fact from what was fantasy. This had to be part of his horrible dreams. It couldn’t be true. He wanted to deny it and throw things and say that her husband was insane, but there were no words left in him. He was hollowed out and spent because he didn’t know what was true.

Those eyes he’d seen in his dream – the one’s that watched him. Were they Arthur’s? Was it true? Such soulless, demonic eyes. Black as hell.

He needed to leave. He needed to get home to Bonnie. He needed to crawl into bed and pull the covers over his head and pretend this never happened. He made his apologies and left. He hoped the check would help, but there was nothing he could do to alleviate her situation. He had his own problems that were exponentially increasing like the cold in Beatrice’s living room. The cold that he couldn’t escape. The cold that was in those vacant eyes that watched him flee.

CHAPTER 29

It was 11 AM, and Miranda was still dancing. The rhythm and music from last night still ran through her head. She’d only just gotten up and showered, feeling the aftereffects of what a glorious evening could do to one’s spirits. She freestyled her way into Tiffany’s kitchen to make breakfast. As soon as her feet hit the cool kitchen travertine tile, she launched into a reprise of the moves that Matt had taught her. The towel she wrapped turban-style over her freshly washed hair kept slipping, but she wouldn’t give up practicing them. She opened Tiffany’s refrigerator to the beat of the tune that played in her head and shut it with a sharp thrust of her hips.

“
Oh, chickie! You’re finally starting to loosen up and get some pepper in that salt shaker!” Tiffany teased. She was standing in the doorway – looking gorgeous, young and sexy in a camisole and boy shorts. It was her usual sleeping attire. It was comfortable and looked great on her, but then anything would. The best part was that there was no need to change her wardrobe based on whether she had female or male company. She yawned and stretched as she spooned the freshly ground coffee into her coffee maker.

“
It seems inevitable that I’d pick-up a move or two hanging around you! You’re the queen of this one,” joked Miranda as she swiveled her hips in an questionably suggestive manner. She was deliberately making fun of Tiff’s provocative booty shaking. It was not lost upon her half-awake best buddy.

“
My family would disown me if I danced like that. Hell, I’d disown me!”

Miranda took out a carton of organic eggs, setting it on the counter next to the stove.

“
How do you want these, Tiffy?”

“
How are you having them?”

“
I’m doing that overeasy thing.”

“
You mean like with Matt?” Tiffany teased, a wry smile playing on her sumptuous lips.

Miranda chuckled, “Never on first dates. Besides you didn’t leave me alone with him long enough.”

“
I heard you the second time. Whatever you’re having will be fine.”

Tiffany plugged in the coffeemaker and flipped the switch. Before long, the soft sounds of percolating coffee filled the stillness of the mid-morning air. Soon the kitchen was overrun with the aroma of the delicious Colombian designer blend that Tiffany bought at her favorite overpriced gourmet market. Tiffany believed in splurging on little things – as well as big things.

Miranda checked the heat upon hearing the noisy spatter of eggs frying.

“
Let’s see what you remember.”

Tiffy assumed the position of a ballroom partner. Miranda stepped into her arms taking the complementary position. She wondered what dance she was to be tested on. She heard Tiff humming the opening strains of a song that they used to dance the Latin hustle to in college.

Miranda followed Tiff’s strong lead. Soon the girls were moving across the kitchen floor until giggling slowed them down.

“
Pretty good, huh?” Miranda asked of her dance teacher.

“
Okay, okay, let’s see this one.
Merengue
!”

Tiffany stiffened into an erect posture with a serious face. Miranda mimicked her friend as best she could. Tiff began a rapid fire rhythm as the girls did a fast one-step side-to-side. Miranda crashed into the wall and then stumbled out into the hallway while Tiffany kept the tempo – laughing all the while. Miranda threw her towel to the side and tried one more time much to the delight of a near hysterical Tiffany. They rocked back-and-forth in an exaggerated motion. Miranda doubled over with laughter. She began walking backward – pulling Tiffany with her into the living room. The back of Miranda’s legs hit into a coffee table. She stumbled grabbing at Tiffany to recover her balance. They both crashed heavily to the ground. They lay sprawled in the middle of Tiffany’s spacious living room in tears. Miranda turned over on her back and laughed like she hadn’t in years.

Miranda raised herself up on her elbows and crawled over to the towel. She sat cross-legged across from Tiffany rewinding it around her head. When in place, she walked on all fours to her best bud. The two girls hugged each other tightly for a few seconds.

“
Oh, chickie! It’s so good to have you here!”

“
And it’s good to be here,” Tiffany said wiping away happy tears. “You’re the only person in the world I can be my absolute, real, decidedly silly self with. Love you, Tiffy.”

“
Love you back, Mirandy.”

Dirty cups littered the tops of the end tables. Plates of snacks hastily put out to satiate last night’s hunger were festering and becoming rancidly stale.

“
Look at this place! It’s a mess!”

“
I know. Alex and Matt were not the neatest people in the world, but I’m not sorry I asked them back here. They were so cute!”

“
I know. When did they leave? I lost all track of time.”

“
Five minutes ago.”

“
They did not!: Miranda stopped and held her nose in the air, “Oh, good god, the eggs!”

Miranda held onto her towel and dashed into the kitchen.

“
Not too bad,” she said turning off the heat.

Tiffany pushed her out of the way.

“
I got it from here. How about we eat on the terrace?”

“
Sounds good to me. You sure you don’t need some help?”

“
I told you I got it.”

“
Okay, okay! I should check my calls,” Miranda said running from the room. She found her purse on the floor outside the front door. She picked it up and walked into the living room – retrieving her phone and throwing her bag on the sectional. She was alarmed with the number of calls Reginald placed. He was the worst kind of fuss budget and most likely was following up to see if she’d received the appraisal – both the email and the snail mail. Miranda didn’t allow herself to think anymore about it. She decided to give her brother a quick call and then talk to Jake. She hoped he was feeling better.