Chapter 2
"No, I don't want the shipment until next week, I told you that Bob," Quentin said into the telephone on his desk. "I don't care what he says, I will not accept them until next Wednesday..........Good, thank you........All right, let me know if you need anything else........Take care.........Goodbye," Quentin hung up just as there was a knock at his office door. "Come in."
"Mr. Collins, there's a man outside that says he needs to see you, that it's urgent. Do you have the time?"
"Yes, let him in," Quentin said. Usually he didn't let anyone without an appointment in to see him, but as it was he didn't have anything to do, and maybe the meeting would be amusing. A man about 5'11'' with light brown hair and a mustache that did not fit his face entered the doorway, and nodded to the person who had let him in. Mr. Saul closed the door and returned to his desk. "Sit down, please," Quentin offered the chair to the man. "To what do I owe this pleasure mister....."
"Ian Shepard. And this pleasure you owe to.....well.....you probably don't want to know."
"This isn't the old bait and switch routine, and if it is I won't bite. Drink?"
"Yes, please." Quentin poured a two small glasses of red wine and handed one to Ian as he took his own seat on the other side of his desk. "I was sent to tell you something, that's to what you owe this visit," Ian said, taking a sip of his wine. "Good wine. What year?"
"1865, imported from Italy," Quentin said, obviously proud of the collection of wine he held in the basement. "And just what do you have to tell me, Mr. Shepard?"
"Ian, please. And what I've been sent to tell you you're not going to want to hear, but I have to tell you anyway. You must return to Collinsport. It is vital to the survival of man kind that you return to Collinsport and put a stop to what Lucifer is attempting there."
"I haven't the slightest idea what you are talking about," Quentin said, quickly putting the glass of wine down on the desk, as if it were poisoned.
"It is clear to me from your actions that you indeed do know what I'm speaking of, and the urgency of the issue. As you well know, Collinsport is nothing but a pile of ash at this time, but I have a way to send you back in time to a point when Collinsport was still a bustling town."
"Listen, Mr. Shepard, Ian, I do not want nor will I ever want to go back to that town, or ever think about it again. Thank you for stopping by, but I have some other urgent business pertaining to my establishment to deal with. It was nice meeting you, and Saul will show you out."
"Very well," Ian said, putting the glass down, "but you shall soon see that what I have stated here, today, at this meeting, is very true. I suspect you will seek me out sooner rather than later, but do not bother. I shall come to you should you need me. Good day." Ian Shepard left the office, closing the door behind himself.
An hour later, Quentin sat in his penthouse, drinking a glass of water, pondering what Ian Shepard had stated. Quentin had not thought about Collinsport for a while and he wished that he could stop thinking about it now. Kathleen entered the living room through the door way, which Quentin was facing away from, carrying a bright bouquet of flowers. "I had forgotten how wonderful the trips I used to take to the market were," she said, scurrying over to the kitchen and putting her bags on the counter. "Is everything all right, honey?" she asked.
"What? Oh, yes, everything's fine. I just had.....a.....well, a rather unusual visitor in the office today."
"Care to elaborate?"
"Not really. Those flowers are beautiful. No doubt Mrs. Kingsley was happy to see you again?"
"Polite and cheerful as always. He flowers look better this year than they ever have. She doesn't know what has caused such bright pigments in the petals, but she sure is happy about it. She told me that her business has gone up two hundred percent since last season."
"That is certainly good to hear," Quentin said, beginning to take the various fruits out of the bags Kathleen had brought home. Cantaloupes, peaches, kiwi, tomatoes, and a small watermelon. As for the vegetables, she had bought a few cucumbers, a head of lettuce, some string beans, and peas. "You've brought quite a variety here," he remarked, folding the bags and placing them in one of the cabinets below the island countertop.
"Yes. There was so much to choose from, I had trouble figuring out what to buy. At one stand I just bought one of everything," she said, with a smile. Kathleen walked over to the sink and put the flowers in the stainless steel bowl, as she looked under the sink for a vase. When she had found one, she filled it halfway with water, and placed the flowers inside, arranging them neatly and beautifully.
"It's not like we can't afford it dear," Quentin said, putting the fruits and vegetables in their respective drawers in the refrigerator.
"I know that, but you know how I like to be frugal with the money we have. Just because we're rich and famous doesn't mean that we can't pinch pennies like the rest of America," Kathleen remarked. After they had both finished putting everything away, they returned to the living room and sat on the leather sofa, looking out through the large glass windows, over the great view of the front garden.
"No, I don't want the shipment until next week, I told you that Bob," Quentin said into the telephone on his desk. "I don't care what he says, I will not accept them until next Wednesday..........Good, thank you........All right, let me know if you need anything else........Take care.........Goodbye," Quentin hung up just as there was a knock at his office door. "Come in."
"Mr. Collins, there's a man outside that says he needs to see you, that it's urgent. Do you have the time?"
"Yes, let him in," Quentin said. Usually he didn't let anyone without an appointment in to see him, but as it was he didn't have anything to do, and maybe the meeting would be amusing. A man about 5'11'' with light brown hair and a mustache that did not fit his face entered the doorway, and nodded to the person who had let him in. Mr. Saul closed the door and returned to his desk. "Sit down, please," Quentin offered the chair to the man. "To what do I owe this pleasure mister....."
"Ian Shepard. And this pleasure you owe to.....well.....you probably don't want to know."
"This isn't the old bait and switch routine, and if it is I won't bite. Drink?"
"Yes, please." Quentin poured a two small glasses of red wine and handed one to Ian as he took his own seat on the other side of his desk. "I was sent to tell you something, that's to what you owe this visit," Ian said, taking a sip of his wine. "Good wine. What year?"
"1865, imported from Italy," Quentin said, obviously proud of the collection of wine he held in the basement. "And just what do you have to tell me, Mr. Shepard?"
"Ian, please. And what I've been sent to tell you you're not going to want to hear, but I have to tell you anyway. You must return to Collinsport. It is vital to the survival of man kind that you return to Collinsport and put a stop to what Lucifer is attempting there."
"I haven't the slightest idea what you are talking about," Quentin said, quickly putting the glass of wine down on the desk, as if it were poisoned.
"It is clear to me from your actions that you indeed do know what I'm speaking of, and the urgency of the issue. As you well know, Collinsport is nothing but a pile of ash at this time, but I have a way to send you back in time to a point when Collinsport was still a bustling town."
"Listen, Mr. Shepard, Ian, I do not want nor will I ever want to go back to that town, or ever think about it again. Thank you for stopping by, but I have some other urgent business pertaining to my establishment to deal with. It was nice meeting you, and Saul will show you out."
"Very well," Ian said, putting the glass down, "but you shall soon see that what I have stated here, today, at this meeting, is very true. I suspect you will seek me out sooner rather than later, but do not bother. I shall come to you should you need me. Good day." Ian Shepard left the office, closing the door behind himself.
An hour later, Quentin sat in his penthouse, drinking a glass of water, pondering what Ian Shepard had stated. Quentin had not thought about Collinsport for a while and he wished that he could stop thinking about it now. Kathleen entered the living room through the door way, which Quentin was facing away from, carrying a bright bouquet of flowers. "I had forgotten how wonderful the trips I used to take to the market were," she said, scurrying over to the kitchen and putting her bags on the counter. "Is everything all right, honey?" she asked.
"What? Oh, yes, everything's fine. I just had.....a.....well, a rather unusual visitor in the office today."
"Care to elaborate?"
"Not really. Those flowers are beautiful. No doubt Mrs. Kingsley was happy to see you again?"
"Polite and cheerful as always. He flowers look better this year than they ever have. She doesn't know what has caused such bright pigments in the petals, but she sure is happy about it. She told me that her business has gone up two hundred percent since last season."
"That is certainly good to hear," Quentin said, beginning to take the various fruits out of the bags Kathleen had brought home. Cantaloupes, peaches, kiwi, tomatoes, and a small watermelon. As for the vegetables, she had bought a few cucumbers, a head of lettuce, some string beans, and peas. "You've brought quite a variety here," he remarked, folding the bags and placing them in one of the cabinets below the island countertop.
"Yes. There was so much to choose from, I had trouble figuring out what to buy. At one stand I just bought one of everything," she said, with a smile. Kathleen walked over to the sink and put the flowers in the stainless steel bowl, as she looked under the sink for a vase. When she had found one, she filled it halfway with water, and placed the flowers inside, arranging them neatly and beautifully.
"It's not like we can't afford it dear," Quentin said, putting the fruits and vegetables in their respective drawers in the refrigerator.
"I know that, but you know how I like to be frugal with the money we have. Just because we're rich and famous doesn't mean that we can't pinch pennies like the rest of America," Kathleen remarked. After they had both finished putting everything away, they returned to the living room and sat on the leather sofa, looking out through the large glass windows, over the great view of the front garden.