The Vampire (THE VAMPIRE Book 1) (3 page)

“And so what brings you back to New Orleans?” Jason asked him. He really was curious now. The stranger managed to maintain an air of detachment while at the same time seeming very focused on Jason. Jason wondered if this perception was correct; he wanted to ask more questions now.

He caught a hint of amusement around the stranger’s eyes in his otherwise serious expression.

“I am looking to make an investment.”

“In what area?” Though he was somewhat curious, Jason thought it sounded like he was just feigning interest.

“Actually, I am looking for a personal assistant to work for me in Boston.” There was a long pause as they sat looking at each other. “It is difficult to find exactly the right person.”

Hmmm
. Jason reflected for a moment. He felt removed from the situation. As objective as someone doing a casual interview on a topic that held only fleeting interest.

“And just who would be the right person?” he asked.
And why,
he wondered,
would an assistant be needed for a twenty-something “businessman,” who is mostly “at leisure”?

The stranger picked up his wine glass and held it to his lips. His downcast, unusual eyes reflected for a moment in the deep red of the wine before he took a sip, then he slowly and deliberately placed the glass back onto the table. He crossed his legs casually as one arm draped languidly off the armrest of the chair, all of this barely taking moments before he answered. “Someone like yourself, perhaps.”

So. There it was. Out in the open. The seductive, low voice. The smoldering gaze, and the personal questions. Or…am I just reading too much into this?
For a moment, Jason reflected on his own appearance today: his dark hair had a tousled, just rolled out of bed look—carefully crafted, of course. He was wearing slim black jeans, a form fitting plain black T-shirt. He looked trim and possibly a little taller than his six feet. Black boots; silver and black leather wrist bands, several on one wrist; one small pierced earring: a tiny fleur de lis he had recently bought. He must be giving off at least a somewhat gothy vibe. He probably looked even paler than usual, thanks to the Minnesota winter. If he was sending out goth signals, that was okay; or he could just be attracting general weirdness today.

Jason had taken up his wine glass and sipped it slowly as he reflected on the stranger’s appearance, quickly observing other details now. The stranger wore several different wrist bands, not unlike his own. Braided black leather; a narrow silver cuff; one a smooth black leather with a small fleur de lis set into the band. Jason got a distinctly gothic vibe from this guy. Definitely. Incongruous details for someone who was passing himself off as a businessman, never mind the business suit. Jason didn’t like to judge others so quickly. But the silky sheen of his long hair added to the impression too, falling as it did in full casual waves to his shoulders, more rock musician than not. The personal questions and the attention paid to Jason sent mixed signals. Was he setting off someone’s
gaydar
? Jason very quickly sized up the stranger again but with a fresh viewpoint. That could be it. Jason had been told he was very good looking, but he had never really flattered himself that it was true. Guys had hit on him before and he had politely told them he wasn’t interested. Just because he was heterosexual did not mean he was homophobic. Sometimes it mystified him he could appeal to both men and women. Jason did not know what to make of this guy. And there was something about the way the stranger moved: a fluid smoothness. One second the wine glass could be poised at the stranger’s lips, or the stem of the glass held by the slender pale fingers at waist height when the glass had been on the table a mere moment ago. Jason’s attention was very focused but he never caught the actual movement. It was a little disorienting. Jason set his own wine glass down with a small, nervous laugh.

“I’m sure I would not be a good assistant for anyone.”

“You are fond of the Boston area, are you not?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“Had you any thoughts of returning there?”

Just the other day, Jason could have said. But he did not. The stranger had an almost quaint turn of phrase. It seemed genuine and not an affectation. And it somehow had the effect of making him seem older.

“I had been considering…relocating…” Jason began, and wondered why he had been honest enough to say so.
Because this is just a stranger, whom I will never see again. So it doesn’t matter
.

“To Boston,” the stranger stated.

“I’m sure I would not be interested,” Jason replied, shaking his head, “but thanks.”

The stranger regarded him silently for several moments.

Where is that server?
Jason glanced around. She was clearing a table across the room with her back to him now. The stranger seemed calm, composed, patient. Jason focused on the server, the other patrons, the people passing by outside, but all the while he had a heightened awareness of the stranger sitting three feet away.

The stranger languidly reached into an inner pocket of his jacket and removed a small silver case covered with elaborately swirled etching. Jason silently admired and coveted it. The stranger snapped it open with one hand and used one finger to slide out an ivory business card with a black border. He replaced the silver case and then removed a shiny black fountain pen from his pocket. Jason had never actually seen anyone use a fountain pen before.

“This is my attorney in New Orleans,” the stranger said as he wrote and then turned the card over and wrote something on the back. “This is my offer.” He leaned toward Jason, slid the card across the table, and quickly withdrew.

Jason had suddenly felt a little light headed when the stranger had moved toward him, and blamed it on the wine he had probably drunk too quickly. Jason picked up the card and read: James Genier, Esquire, Genier & Genier, Attorneys at Law. There was an 800-number, and what appeared to be a local number, and a PO Box. Jason turned the card over and read the flourished but neatly inked: L. Augere and under that a dollar amount. Jason’s eyes widened as he read the figure: it was 28K more than he had been making at his job.

“What would someone have to do for that kind of money?” Jason asked, his eyes still on the card as he suppressed an urge to laugh. “Get rid of the bodies?”

He glanced up briefly and witnessed the stranger looking at him intently. He returned his attention to the business card.

At the verbal response “No” he quickly looked up again; his smile faded slowly as he noted the solemn, humorless expression.
Not one for a little levity
.

“I just really don’t think I would be interested.”

“I think you will find it is the better of several other offers,” the stranger replied confidently. “You might wish to give it consideration.”

“Actually I just need to—”

“Why?” The stranger’s statement interrupted.

Jason had been about to say “get back to Minnesota.” But he hadn’t really wanted to say that; he really did not want to go back. There wasn’t now, and still might not be any time soon, anything waiting for him there. The stranger’s comment seemed less an arrogant one and more like an acknowledgement of Jason’s anxiety and uncertainty about his future.

In the very next moment the server approached and the stranger was already standing. A $20 bill was lying on the table and Jason hadn’t seen the stranger put it there. When he glanced up at the server a moment later, the stranger was already at the exit. Jason looked to the server with a questioning expression as if for validation she might have witnessed any of what he had, or seemed to have, seen. She gave no sign of having noticed anything unusual. When he glanced toward the door again a moment later the stranger was nowhere to be seen.

The server asked if he needed anything else, and Jason shook his head, and then asked for the check. As she presented it to him, he noticed the glass of red wine, still full, on the table. Jason had seen the man sipping the wine, several times, but the glass looked untouched. Had he ordered another…? Jason shook his head. The server had not been back to the table until just now.

Jason collected the change the server brought him and absently pocketed the business card with it as he stood up to leave the restaurant.
I’m really hungry,
he thought, missing the irony of leaving the restaurant with half of a large tasty salad left untouched.

****

After he exited the restaurant, Laurent Augere walked several blocks and then placed a call on his cell phone.

“I spoke to him today.”

“That’s good,” James Genier replied. “Does he seem inclined to accept the offer?”

“Not yet.”

“Shall we begin?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have the information for me?”

“Of course.” Augere provided what was needed.

“Very good. I’ll get started with this right now, unless there something you need me to do first?”

“Place a call to the real estate people. I will need to find a residence in Boston. Very soon. Hopefully one needing only minimal renovations.” Augere sighed. “Though I am certain that will be unlikely.”

“I will tell them to make this a priority. They will need to know what kind of timeframe we are looking at. You know it could take a month at least, maybe a lot longer, just to find something.”

“Yes. Understood. Actually, I may have a possible location in mind.”

Genier hesitated for several moments. “Okay….well…we can give you whatever assistance is needed. Will you be staying on here?”

“No. I will need to be available in Boston. I will make the arrangements.”

“I see…I’ll be in touch then, and let you know how things progress on this end.”

****

Jason spent the rest of his morning on a pleasant tour of the Audubon Zoo. Afterward he rode the St. Charles streetcar to the end of the line and back to Canal Street. Then there was jambalaya for an early dinner, followed by his new addiction: beignets and café au lait. By the time he arrived for his vampire walking tour that evening, the encounter with the mysterious stranger was long forgotten. He finished up the night listening to live music in clubs along Frenchman Street, and then took a cab back to his hotel. He had forgotten he meant to stop at an absinthe bar on the way back. He had never had a chance to try it before and he was determined it would happen on this trip.
There’s always tomorrow,
he thought, as he entered his hotel room and then turned on the TV. A local visitor’s channel he liked displayed views of the city and ideas of things to do. He watched for a while and then climbed into bed after a hot shower. He watched TV for a while longer, taking note of more things to see and do, before finally reaching to turn off the bedside lamp to go to sleep. That was the first time he noticed the red message indicator on the phone was blinking.

He stared at it for several moments. It had to be a mistake. No one even knew he was here, except family, and he doubted they even knew the name of his hotel. He called down to the desk.

“Yes sir. A fax arrived for you this afternoon.”

“A fax?” Jason repeated. “There must be a mistake.”

“It is for Jason Sterling. You are the only person registered with that name.” She paused. “Would you like me to send it up to your room, sir?”

“Yes, okay, sure.” he answered, not feeling at all sure. He was baffled.

Several minutes later he was holding a five-page document from the law firm of Genier & Genier.

The first page outlined the job description, which, though detailed, still managed to appear rather vague. The second page stipulated that all of the stringent criteria must be met, and a detailed list followed, with the advisement this was not a comprehensive list. The third page mentioned the salary and benefits: a retirement plan; housing provided; financial services; life, health, dental and vision insurance was included. Again, this would be contingent upon meeting all of the criteria, submitting to a background check and a physical exam, as well as other testing. There was a substantial confidentiality agreement, which was to be signed and strictly adhered to. The fourth page stipulated further qualifications such as having a driver’s license, have or be able to obtain a passport; having no physical limitations; no dependents. The last page provided contact information for the Genier law firm which was basically the same information on the business card.

He stared at the last page of the document, and then glanced at each of the pages again. Then he froze. A cold chill the length of his body started at the top of his head.

He was absolutely certain he had never told that stranger his name. Nor, he realized now, the chill passing through him again, had he ever mentioned the name of the hotel where he was staying. Jason immediately called down to the front desk. They assured him they did not nor would not give out any information about him or even confirm he was a guest there. It appeared to him, however, it was already too late.

Was this guy stalking me? How long had he been following me? And why me?
Jason’s apprehension bordered on fear. He decided he should call the police. He had to report this…
but what crime am I going to report exactly? That I received a fax? From an attorney? And that it concerns what appears to be a legitimate job offer?

Okay, so it wasn’t exactly a crime yet. But this was definitely some kind of scam. Jason had seen movies like this…some poor sap lured into some crazy, too good to be true setup, and left to take the fall for some horrible crime. Oh, no, they won’t! Jason dropped the pages into the wastebasket, and made sure his door was double locked before climbing into bed. He got absorbed in an old black and white movie on TV. He was tired but it was still a while before he finally fell asleep, with the TV still on.

The next morning, on his way out the door to get breakfast, he impulsively retrieved the pages from the wastebasket. He felt a little nervous walking around now, and kept looking around to see if he was being followed.

He had walked in the direction of the Ursulines Convent, intrigued about the place and wanting to check it out further in the daytime after learning about it on the previous night’s vampire tour. On the way there he discovered the Croissant D’Or café, where he stopped for breakfast. He started to calm a little by the second cup of coffee. He made a plan to research the names Genier and Augere and then determine what steps to take next. He returned to the hotel, forgetting about the intended convent visit, and made use of the hotel’s business center.