Here is Ch 9. I don't know when I'll get on to 10 since the rest of the
week is hectic. I hate when that happens; too many ideas and no time to
write them out. If I'm lucky I'll have it out before Monday. If not it
will be here ASAP:
*-*-*-*-*
Anthony pulled up to a run down bar just north of Oxnard and wandered into its dimly lit interior. He looked out of place there with his crisp black pinstriped suit and cane when most of the other patrons looked as though they came from a bad biker movie. Turning on his collected assassin façade he sat on a bar stool he handed the bartender a note asking for cognac. "Sorry Bud, don't serve that got whiskey and beer," said the bartender wiping the bar down with a damp dirty rag. Anthony revised his note ordering a whiskey. and waited for it to arrive.
A trucker from a booth in the corner sauntered over to the juke box and Garth Brook's "Friends in Low Places" started pouring out of the speakers then walked over to the bar and stood next to Anthony. "Hey Dave, gimme a beer!" he drawled to the man behind the bar. From the far end of the bar a heavily made-up brunette tried to make eye contact with him. She leaned over and giggled something in her peroxide blond girlfriend's ear which made the friend laugh as well. He knew they were talking about him but he didn't care. Their eyes flitted over him and they whispered back and forth. The blond stood up and wiggled over to the stool next to him.
"Hi, I'm Tambi. That's with a 'T' not a 'B' like the deer," she bubbled. Anthony stared straight ahead and took a sip of the whiskey which was the worst he had ever tasted. "Haven't seen you here before, ya new?" He didn't answer it didn't seem to matter to her she kept on talking. "I like your fancy suit, most men don't know how t' dress but you got style. Buy me a drink?" she asked.
When he didn't respond the trucker who liked Garth Brooks' music, Arnie did. "Didn't you hear her buddy? When a lady speaks to you, you answer." Anthony didn't acknowledge the man talking to him anymore than he did the woman although he knew they were both there. The trucker placed his hand on Anthony's shoulder and turned him so they were facing each other. "I said when a lady speaks to you." His words drifted off as Anthony raised his cold pale blue eyes to look at the man and pegged him with an icy stare. Normally the trucker would have picked a fight, that was the kind of man he was but the look in Anthony's eyes changed his mind quickly. "Okay man, you don't have to talk to nobody you don't want to." Anthony turned on his stool back to his original position.
"You gonna let him get away with that Arnie?" asked Tambi in a shrill voice.
"Yeah Arnie," said a big man from across the room, "You're not going to let him talk to our Tambi like that are you?" Another voice agreeing with the first shouted out, "Yeah Arnie, a skinny, sissy, cuss like him?" The rumble of laughter filled the room. Anthony sighed. He understood the culture of the men in the bar very well, that was their way of challenging Arnie's manhood and he knew that Arnie would have to defend himself, which meant he would have to defend himself against Arnie. He felt bad about it. Barroom brawls weren't exactly his style. All he had wanted was a simple drink and try to forget that he lost Dylan.
Arnie didn't say anything. He didn't want to fight with the odd man at the bar. Something about his eyes, he didn't like what he had seen there. They were so cold. The word that popped into Arnie's mind was "deadly". The look the man had given him had completely sobered him up. He was sorry he even touched the man.
Anthony tossed back the last of his whiskey and ordered another as the second troublemaker who had called to Arnie from one of the booths stepped forward. He was a large stereotypical biker. "If Arnie doesn't have the balls to defend our Miss Tambi's honor then I will." Like Arnie before him the placed his hand on Anthony's shoulder but as he spun the Thin Man around he threw a punch. Anthony smoothly ducked and the biker stumbled forward falling against the bar. While the man was struggling to push himself off the bar and out from between the stools several other men stood and moved towards the bar. Anthony stood spun his cane around and held out his hand for them to stop. They did briefly and looked at one another. The biker then charged him leading the way for the others. They attacked with a roar. Anthony ducked and retaliated. The fight was over quicker than it began leaving Anthony standing in the midst of broken chairs and unconscious men. He sat quietly back on the bar stool and scribbled an order for another whiskey and began writing.
*-*-*-*-*
"Morning Sunshine," said a woman's voice with a clipped accent waking Anthony from his rest. He shielded his eyes and groaned as she opened the vinyl blind letting the sunlight stream into the room. After he left Dylan he drove some more until he wound up in a dive bar in Oxnard. He couldn't remember the last time he drank so much probably never. When he was working he never drank, it dulled the senses and made him sloppy. He barely remembered leaving the bar and didn't recall how he got into bed at all, but he did vaguely remember a fight with several large men and now Kate's morning perkiness was giving him a headache.
Anthony grabbed the old-fashioned clock that sat on the bedside table and looked at it. It read ten on the nose. As Kate babbled something about scrambled eggs he absently wondered if Dylan made it to work on time. "So breakfast its downstairs on the table and I'm off I have an appointment with the angels," chirped Kate. The word angels made him remember something about last night the note he had written. Jumping out of bed he searched through the pockets of his pants which were draped Dylan style over a chair. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for and then he jotted another note and handed it to Kate which read, "Give this to Dylan."
Kate smiled at him and said she would as she left the house. As she drove to the Townsend agency in her red Toyota she thought about Anthony and decided that if Dylan was that quick to jump to conclusions maybe she should make sure the conclusions were accurate. As she pulled up to a stop light she nonchalantly dropped the note for the angel out the window and as the light changed back to green she drove off, never thinking another thing about the piece of paper.
*-*-*-*-*
Dylan borrowed Alex's car to take to Rutherford's. The traffic as usual was terrible but despite that she didn't make bad time. She pulled up into the long drive way and parked the Masarati. She knocked on the door and waited. The sprinklers hissed breaking the silence of the morning. Eventually the butler opened the door. "Ms Blaine," he said in welcome and stepped aside to permit her entrance. "Mr. Rutherford wishes you to go onward to his study. Is there anything I can get you to drink?"
"No thank you," she said.
"Very well, straight down the hall. Same place as last time," said the butler as he headed off in the opposite direction. Dylan did as she was told and headed towards the study. She knocked softly on the door but there was no answer so tried again a little louder but still no reply. She pushed the door open. The study was deserted and she went inside. Wondering where her host was she wandered around the room looking for clues about the man called "Ruthless Rutherford". She carefully but quickly flipped though papers on his desk.
"Find anything of interest?" said Rutherford from the doorway. Dylan spun to face him. "Don't worry I wouldn't have expected any less from you. In fact I think you would have disappointed me if you hadn't looked at my papers. Have a seat." He gestured towards one of the chairs and Dylan sat down. "Since I learned you were a detective I have been.how you do Yanks say it..been doing my homework. I did like the phony webpage with info on Lillian Blaine. It was quite impressive as was the information I discovered on the Townsend Agency's work on the HALO rings and the kidnapping of the Barbaker girl. So if you hadn't been detecting I would have been worried."
Rutherford walked over to his desk and unlocked the bottom draw. Pulling out a file he then sat in the desk chair and opened it. "So Dylan you are looking for the stolen eggs and you agree that if I help you I will receive one of the originals for my services?"
"I've talked to my associates and they agree that it's reasonable," she said.
"See I am a reasonable man. I'm not so ruthless, a bit heartless at times but not ruthless but then again "Heartless Rutherford" while nice doesn't have quite the same ring does it?" he walked around his desk and sat on the corner near her.
"I guess it doesn't."
"Dylan-love," he said running it together like one word, "don't be so tense. You were in the room with two of us the other day and you were completely relaxed. I assure you I wish you no harm. I could never hurt a woman as lovely as you are." He reached over and brushed a wayward lock of hair behind her ear.
Of course she hadn't been tense last time, Anthony had been with her. She had trusted him and knew he would keep her safe. Plus she had a cover and now she was exposed. It also concerned her that Anthony adamantly didn't want her to visit Neville Rutherford alone the first time. Something had made him so concerned. What that was she hadn't yet found out. "So do you have any leads yet? Why did you want me to come?"
"First so I could partake in your loveliness."
Dylan rolled her eyes this was getting long and dull and way to wordy for her liking. "Okay I'm here you saw me."
"Ooh there is, that feistiness that I saw last visit. Second it was to invite you to be my guest tonight."
"Your guest where?" she asked.
"The exhibition opening tonight for the Faberge Eggs, Dylan-love. You are working for Ekaterina Dunayevskaya aren't you? And you didn't know?" He said as he pushed a button on his desk. Almost immediately the butler appeared holding a garment bag. Rutherford nodded and the butler unzipped it and took out the contents, a long dark green strapless gown.
Dylan looked between the dress and the man. "I'm not part of the deal. Thank you Mr. Rutherford.."
"Neville" he corrected.
"Mr. Rutherford. I think we can locate the eggs on our own." With that she headed towards the door to his study.
"Dylan, Dylan, I'm so sorry you misinterpreted my offer. I was just requesting your company for the evening. Am I so repulsive?" he asked looking contrite. Dylan had to admit that he was rather good looking, "A sure sign his is a bad guy," she told herself but she wasn't about to let him know.
"It's not the outer beauty that I'm concerned with," she said.
"Ah what a tongue," he clapped his hands together. "Then ignore my evilness for a moment and agree to go with me. I guarantee a grand time and all the information you could possibly want."
"Fine," she said. After all it was one evening out of her life and if Alex's plan worked out he would be behind bars for the rest of his.
"Fine?" He asked surprised that she agreed without more of a fight.
"I said fine didn't I?"
"Splendid. I shall pick you up at eight. The exhibition gala begins at nine so we should have plenty of time to have dinner together before we get there."
Dylan headed back out of the room. "Dylan-love," he called. She stopped and turned to see him walking towards her carrying the garment bag. "Don't forget the dress. With your hair and eyes the crowd tonight will be looking at you not the fake eggs." Dylan snatched the bag out of his hands and stormed down out of his mansion wondering at the nerve of the man and why the hell she agreed to go with him.
*-*-*-*-*
Natalie and Alex were in the lab of the agency going over the photos that were found the day before for any possible clues when Bosley knocked on the door. "Come in Bosley," the two angels said in sync. He opened the door and stepped inside.
"The client is here. The museum woman," he said.
Alex said to Natalie, "You should go down and help her. I don't think I'll be very nice if I do especially after what Dylan saw last night. You will at least give her a chance to explain. I don't think I can do that. Plus I just found what appears to be a partial pinky finger on the back of this one."
"Okay," said Nat. "I'll let you know what she has to say." She went downstairs. Kate was sitting lady like on the couch. As she heard Natalie enter the room she stood up. "Natalie how are you? Have you made any progress?"
"We found some clues yesterday in Sacramento. Alex is working on them now," said Natalie.
"That is wonderful. The main reason I'm here is to ask if you are coming tonight. Actually to ask if all of you are coming tonight." She looked expectantly at both Natalie and Bosley.
"Coming where?" asked Bosley
"Why the exhibition opening of course," she said. "It's black tie and very formal."
"Is there food?" he asked.
"Of course."
"Free?"
Kate smiled at him. "Naturally."
"Then I know I'll be there."
Kate turned to face Natalie. "And you? You will be coming won't you?" Natalie was confused. She wanted to say "no" because of the Dylan/Anthony situation but it was part of the case and she did truly like Kate. "I'll be there."
"Splendid! Bring your boyfriend as well, and if there is a special someone in your life bring her a long as well Bosley. Do you think Alex and Dylan will want to attend?" asked Kate with enthusiasm.
"If you will excuse me. I have to take care of some errands for Charlie." They said their goodbyes. As he left the room they heard him say, "Mama will have a blast!"
"It is our job so we will be there, but Kate can we talk for a minute? As friends?" asked Nat sitting on the couch.
Kate sat down next to her. "Of course." She had an idea what Natalie wanted to talk about. She had a feeling that was coming from the moment she saw the blond angel. Natalie's entire demeanor was different than it had been so she could only assume that she wanted to discuss Dylan and Anthony. If she was lucky there wouldn't be a Dylan and Anthony but she couldn't worry about that at the moment. "What did you want to chat about?"
"This is hard for me to ask so maybe Ill come right out and say it. Are you having an affair with Dylan's boyfriend?"
"An affair?"
"An affair. There I asked it. Dylan said she went to the house Anthony inherited and you two were we on the couch together."
"Natalie, we are just two old friends, nothing more," she said reassuringly. "The house that Anton inherited belonged to my Great Uncle Dimitri. Unfortunately last night I found out why I hadn't been able to reach him, he is dead." Tears welled up in her eyes. She hadn't cried since Anthony told her but saying out loud brought her sadness to the surface. "Oh god, he IS dead," it had just sunk in.
"Kate, I'm sorry. I had no idea that Mr. Aleskandrov was your uncle," said Natalie putting her arm around her and handing her a tissue. Kate sat upright, "You knew my uncle?"
"I didn't know him, only knew of him. He saved Dylan's life with the cure he made for her." Natalie related the story of Vivian Woods revenge attempt to the client.
Barely listening to Natalie her thoughts were elsewhere. Anthony had told her last night how her uncle had died after he made a cure for a "friend". He had neglected to tell her the friend was Dylan. Maybe that was a good sign for her. If he called her a friend perhaps their relationship wasn't as close as Dylan made it out to be.
*-*-*-*-*
The burly man walked into the ornate, tackily decorated mansion of his employer. It was a beautiful house, but the tacky gold and red with the Louis XIV furniture ruined it, in his opinion at least; if it were anyone else he would have probably come straight out and said how ugly he found it, but not to this man. "Francisco, you're on time," said his employer cheerfully to him from the shadows. Francisco didn't say anything. His employer hated being addressed unless it was to be answered. "So how is the job going?"
"As planned."
Francisco watched as his employer's hand emerged from the shadow to pick up the picture frame on the table next to him. The employer sighed, "He didn't do well in prison. His tough attitude was just that, an attitude. He couldn't survive in there and killed himself. Only three days behind bars. I loved him so." Francisco just waited. "And then there was my business. The FBI raided it based on the information that slutty little red-head gave them. I barely managed to get away myself. She will pay and he will too. It is such a shame to have to do this to him. He is a handsome man, the assassin. Well, Francisco I suppose we should move into phase two. The eggs are in the vault. You know the combination. Now is the time for the set up. Do it just as we discussed. I want them as miserable as they have made me."
Francisco went over to the wall and carefully removed the painting. He opened the safe and took out four small bundles wrapped in burlap then placed them in the gym bag he carried and zipped it up. He gave his employer a nod and as he walked down the hallway he heard his employer call, "Call me later tonight!"
*-*-*-*-*
Anthony pulled up to a run down bar just north of Oxnard and wandered into its dimly lit interior. He looked out of place there with his crisp black pinstriped suit and cane when most of the other patrons looked as though they came from a bad biker movie. Turning on his collected assassin façade he sat on a bar stool he handed the bartender a note asking for cognac. "Sorry Bud, don't serve that got whiskey and beer," said the bartender wiping the bar down with a damp dirty rag. Anthony revised his note ordering a whiskey. and waited for it to arrive.
A trucker from a booth in the corner sauntered over to the juke box and Garth Brook's "Friends in Low Places" started pouring out of the speakers then walked over to the bar and stood next to Anthony. "Hey Dave, gimme a beer!" he drawled to the man behind the bar. From the far end of the bar a heavily made-up brunette tried to make eye contact with him. She leaned over and giggled something in her peroxide blond girlfriend's ear which made the friend laugh as well. He knew they were talking about him but he didn't care. Their eyes flitted over him and they whispered back and forth. The blond stood up and wiggled over to the stool next to him.
"Hi, I'm Tambi. That's with a 'T' not a 'B' like the deer," she bubbled. Anthony stared straight ahead and took a sip of the whiskey which was the worst he had ever tasted. "Haven't seen you here before, ya new?" He didn't answer it didn't seem to matter to her she kept on talking. "I like your fancy suit, most men don't know how t' dress but you got style. Buy me a drink?" she asked.
When he didn't respond the trucker who liked Garth Brooks' music, Arnie did. "Didn't you hear her buddy? When a lady speaks to you, you answer." Anthony didn't acknowledge the man talking to him anymore than he did the woman although he knew they were both there. The trucker placed his hand on Anthony's shoulder and turned him so they were facing each other. "I said when a lady speaks to you." His words drifted off as Anthony raised his cold pale blue eyes to look at the man and pegged him with an icy stare. Normally the trucker would have picked a fight, that was the kind of man he was but the look in Anthony's eyes changed his mind quickly. "Okay man, you don't have to talk to nobody you don't want to." Anthony turned on his stool back to his original position.
"You gonna let him get away with that Arnie?" asked Tambi in a shrill voice.
"Yeah Arnie," said a big man from across the room, "You're not going to let him talk to our Tambi like that are you?" Another voice agreeing with the first shouted out, "Yeah Arnie, a skinny, sissy, cuss like him?" The rumble of laughter filled the room. Anthony sighed. He understood the culture of the men in the bar very well, that was their way of challenging Arnie's manhood and he knew that Arnie would have to defend himself, which meant he would have to defend himself against Arnie. He felt bad about it. Barroom brawls weren't exactly his style. All he had wanted was a simple drink and try to forget that he lost Dylan.
Arnie didn't say anything. He didn't want to fight with the odd man at the bar. Something about his eyes, he didn't like what he had seen there. They were so cold. The word that popped into Arnie's mind was "deadly". The look the man had given him had completely sobered him up. He was sorry he even touched the man.
Anthony tossed back the last of his whiskey and ordered another as the second troublemaker who had called to Arnie from one of the booths stepped forward. He was a large stereotypical biker. "If Arnie doesn't have the balls to defend our Miss Tambi's honor then I will." Like Arnie before him the placed his hand on Anthony's shoulder but as he spun the Thin Man around he threw a punch. Anthony smoothly ducked and the biker stumbled forward falling against the bar. While the man was struggling to push himself off the bar and out from between the stools several other men stood and moved towards the bar. Anthony stood spun his cane around and held out his hand for them to stop. They did briefly and looked at one another. The biker then charged him leading the way for the others. They attacked with a roar. Anthony ducked and retaliated. The fight was over quicker than it began leaving Anthony standing in the midst of broken chairs and unconscious men. He sat quietly back on the bar stool and scribbled an order for another whiskey and began writing.
*-*-*-*-*
"Morning Sunshine," said a woman's voice with a clipped accent waking Anthony from his rest. He shielded his eyes and groaned as she opened the vinyl blind letting the sunlight stream into the room. After he left Dylan he drove some more until he wound up in a dive bar in Oxnard. He couldn't remember the last time he drank so much probably never. When he was working he never drank, it dulled the senses and made him sloppy. He barely remembered leaving the bar and didn't recall how he got into bed at all, but he did vaguely remember a fight with several large men and now Kate's morning perkiness was giving him a headache.
Anthony grabbed the old-fashioned clock that sat on the bedside table and looked at it. It read ten on the nose. As Kate babbled something about scrambled eggs he absently wondered if Dylan made it to work on time. "So breakfast its downstairs on the table and I'm off I have an appointment with the angels," chirped Kate. The word angels made him remember something about last night the note he had written. Jumping out of bed he searched through the pockets of his pants which were draped Dylan style over a chair. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for and then he jotted another note and handed it to Kate which read, "Give this to Dylan."
Kate smiled at him and said she would as she left the house. As she drove to the Townsend agency in her red Toyota she thought about Anthony and decided that if Dylan was that quick to jump to conclusions maybe she should make sure the conclusions were accurate. As she pulled up to a stop light she nonchalantly dropped the note for the angel out the window and as the light changed back to green she drove off, never thinking another thing about the piece of paper.
*-*-*-*-*
Dylan borrowed Alex's car to take to Rutherford's. The traffic as usual was terrible but despite that she didn't make bad time. She pulled up into the long drive way and parked the Masarati. She knocked on the door and waited. The sprinklers hissed breaking the silence of the morning. Eventually the butler opened the door. "Ms Blaine," he said in welcome and stepped aside to permit her entrance. "Mr. Rutherford wishes you to go onward to his study. Is there anything I can get you to drink?"
"No thank you," she said.
"Very well, straight down the hall. Same place as last time," said the butler as he headed off in the opposite direction. Dylan did as she was told and headed towards the study. She knocked softly on the door but there was no answer so tried again a little louder but still no reply. She pushed the door open. The study was deserted and she went inside. Wondering where her host was she wandered around the room looking for clues about the man called "Ruthless Rutherford". She carefully but quickly flipped though papers on his desk.
"Find anything of interest?" said Rutherford from the doorway. Dylan spun to face him. "Don't worry I wouldn't have expected any less from you. In fact I think you would have disappointed me if you hadn't looked at my papers. Have a seat." He gestured towards one of the chairs and Dylan sat down. "Since I learned you were a detective I have been.how you do Yanks say it..been doing my homework. I did like the phony webpage with info on Lillian Blaine. It was quite impressive as was the information I discovered on the Townsend Agency's work on the HALO rings and the kidnapping of the Barbaker girl. So if you hadn't been detecting I would have been worried."
Rutherford walked over to his desk and unlocked the bottom draw. Pulling out a file he then sat in the desk chair and opened it. "So Dylan you are looking for the stolen eggs and you agree that if I help you I will receive one of the originals for my services?"
"I've talked to my associates and they agree that it's reasonable," she said.
"See I am a reasonable man. I'm not so ruthless, a bit heartless at times but not ruthless but then again "Heartless Rutherford" while nice doesn't have quite the same ring does it?" he walked around his desk and sat on the corner near her.
"I guess it doesn't."
"Dylan-love," he said running it together like one word, "don't be so tense. You were in the room with two of us the other day and you were completely relaxed. I assure you I wish you no harm. I could never hurt a woman as lovely as you are." He reached over and brushed a wayward lock of hair behind her ear.
Of course she hadn't been tense last time, Anthony had been with her. She had trusted him and knew he would keep her safe. Plus she had a cover and now she was exposed. It also concerned her that Anthony adamantly didn't want her to visit Neville Rutherford alone the first time. Something had made him so concerned. What that was she hadn't yet found out. "So do you have any leads yet? Why did you want me to come?"
"First so I could partake in your loveliness."
Dylan rolled her eyes this was getting long and dull and way to wordy for her liking. "Okay I'm here you saw me."
"Ooh there is, that feistiness that I saw last visit. Second it was to invite you to be my guest tonight."
"Your guest where?" she asked.
"The exhibition opening tonight for the Faberge Eggs, Dylan-love. You are working for Ekaterina Dunayevskaya aren't you? And you didn't know?" He said as he pushed a button on his desk. Almost immediately the butler appeared holding a garment bag. Rutherford nodded and the butler unzipped it and took out the contents, a long dark green strapless gown.
Dylan looked between the dress and the man. "I'm not part of the deal. Thank you Mr. Rutherford.."
"Neville" he corrected.
"Mr. Rutherford. I think we can locate the eggs on our own." With that she headed towards the door to his study.
"Dylan, Dylan, I'm so sorry you misinterpreted my offer. I was just requesting your company for the evening. Am I so repulsive?" he asked looking contrite. Dylan had to admit that he was rather good looking, "A sure sign his is a bad guy," she told herself but she wasn't about to let him know.
"It's not the outer beauty that I'm concerned with," she said.
"Ah what a tongue," he clapped his hands together. "Then ignore my evilness for a moment and agree to go with me. I guarantee a grand time and all the information you could possibly want."
"Fine," she said. After all it was one evening out of her life and if Alex's plan worked out he would be behind bars for the rest of his.
"Fine?" He asked surprised that she agreed without more of a fight.
"I said fine didn't I?"
"Splendid. I shall pick you up at eight. The exhibition gala begins at nine so we should have plenty of time to have dinner together before we get there."
Dylan headed back out of the room. "Dylan-love," he called. She stopped and turned to see him walking towards her carrying the garment bag. "Don't forget the dress. With your hair and eyes the crowd tonight will be looking at you not the fake eggs." Dylan snatched the bag out of his hands and stormed down out of his mansion wondering at the nerve of the man and why the hell she agreed to go with him.
*-*-*-*-*
Natalie and Alex were in the lab of the agency going over the photos that were found the day before for any possible clues when Bosley knocked on the door. "Come in Bosley," the two angels said in sync. He opened the door and stepped inside.
"The client is here. The museum woman," he said.
Alex said to Natalie, "You should go down and help her. I don't think I'll be very nice if I do especially after what Dylan saw last night. You will at least give her a chance to explain. I don't think I can do that. Plus I just found what appears to be a partial pinky finger on the back of this one."
"Okay," said Nat. "I'll let you know what she has to say." She went downstairs. Kate was sitting lady like on the couch. As she heard Natalie enter the room she stood up. "Natalie how are you? Have you made any progress?"
"We found some clues yesterday in Sacramento. Alex is working on them now," said Natalie.
"That is wonderful. The main reason I'm here is to ask if you are coming tonight. Actually to ask if all of you are coming tonight." She looked expectantly at both Natalie and Bosley.
"Coming where?" asked Bosley
"Why the exhibition opening of course," she said. "It's black tie and very formal."
"Is there food?" he asked.
"Of course."
"Free?"
Kate smiled at him. "Naturally."
"Then I know I'll be there."
Kate turned to face Natalie. "And you? You will be coming won't you?" Natalie was confused. She wanted to say "no" because of the Dylan/Anthony situation but it was part of the case and she did truly like Kate. "I'll be there."
"Splendid! Bring your boyfriend as well, and if there is a special someone in your life bring her a long as well Bosley. Do you think Alex and Dylan will want to attend?" asked Kate with enthusiasm.
"If you will excuse me. I have to take care of some errands for Charlie." They said their goodbyes. As he left the room they heard him say, "Mama will have a blast!"
"It is our job so we will be there, but Kate can we talk for a minute? As friends?" asked Nat sitting on the couch.
Kate sat down next to her. "Of course." She had an idea what Natalie wanted to talk about. She had a feeling that was coming from the moment she saw the blond angel. Natalie's entire demeanor was different than it had been so she could only assume that she wanted to discuss Dylan and Anthony. If she was lucky there wouldn't be a Dylan and Anthony but she couldn't worry about that at the moment. "What did you want to chat about?"
"This is hard for me to ask so maybe Ill come right out and say it. Are you having an affair with Dylan's boyfriend?"
"An affair?"
"An affair. There I asked it. Dylan said she went to the house Anthony inherited and you two were we on the couch together."
"Natalie, we are just two old friends, nothing more," she said reassuringly. "The house that Anton inherited belonged to my Great Uncle Dimitri. Unfortunately last night I found out why I hadn't been able to reach him, he is dead." Tears welled up in her eyes. She hadn't cried since Anthony told her but saying out loud brought her sadness to the surface. "Oh god, he IS dead," it had just sunk in.
"Kate, I'm sorry. I had no idea that Mr. Aleskandrov was your uncle," said Natalie putting her arm around her and handing her a tissue. Kate sat upright, "You knew my uncle?"
"I didn't know him, only knew of him. He saved Dylan's life with the cure he made for her." Natalie related the story of Vivian Woods revenge attempt to the client.
Barely listening to Natalie her thoughts were elsewhere. Anthony had told her last night how her uncle had died after he made a cure for a "friend". He had neglected to tell her the friend was Dylan. Maybe that was a good sign for her. If he called her a friend perhaps their relationship wasn't as close as Dylan made it out to be.
*-*-*-*-*
The burly man walked into the ornate, tackily decorated mansion of his employer. It was a beautiful house, but the tacky gold and red with the Louis XIV furniture ruined it, in his opinion at least; if it were anyone else he would have probably come straight out and said how ugly he found it, but not to this man. "Francisco, you're on time," said his employer cheerfully to him from the shadows. Francisco didn't say anything. His employer hated being addressed unless it was to be answered. "So how is the job going?"
"As planned."
Francisco watched as his employer's hand emerged from the shadow to pick up the picture frame on the table next to him. The employer sighed, "He didn't do well in prison. His tough attitude was just that, an attitude. He couldn't survive in there and killed himself. Only three days behind bars. I loved him so." Francisco just waited. "And then there was my business. The FBI raided it based on the information that slutty little red-head gave them. I barely managed to get away myself. She will pay and he will too. It is such a shame to have to do this to him. He is a handsome man, the assassin. Well, Francisco I suppose we should move into phase two. The eggs are in the vault. You know the combination. Now is the time for the set up. Do it just as we discussed. I want them as miserable as they have made me."
Francisco went over to the wall and carefully removed the painting. He opened the safe and took out four small bundles wrapped in burlap then placed them in the gym bag he carried and zipped it up. He gave his employer a nod and as he walked down the hallway he heard his employer call, "Call me later tonight!"