I think this is much better than the last chapter in everyway. I didn't
like the work I did on the last one at all. Anyway. I've left enough
clues. I hope everyone enjoys reading it and please, please review.
Thanks! As for the villain I always have pictured him sort of as a cross
between Elvis and Rudolph Moshammer only evil. If you don't know who
Moshammer is look him up. You are on the interenet (
*-*-*-*-*
Anthony and Dylan entered Kate's office on the third floor. Dylan was a surprised that Rutherford was there as well as the angels, and Kate looked surprised to see her practically arm and arm with Anthony. "Dylan," cried Natalie upon seeing her friend, "Are you okay? Who were you following?"
Dylan looked at Anthony and said, "The Chief".
"Who is he? Why does he want to ruin my career?" asked Kate fighting to hold back tears. She invested everything into her job and moving to California now it looked like some stranger was going to have her sent to prison and she wanted to know why.
"The Chief," said Dylan, "Is an.I guess you could call him an outsourcer for assassins. He employees them like a factory would hire workers. Or at least he did. We had the FBI go in a couple weeks ago and break up his operation. They caught eleven of his permanent employees but the Chief has more. The FBI was hoping that they could catch him as well and that he would help them and Interpol uncover several others but he somehow got away. Last we heard there were no leads on where he had gone and now he turns up here."
"Are you sure it was him?" asked Natalie.
"Pretty sure. He had a different car. Last time he had a black limo but this time it was white with long horn cattle horns on the front and one of those obnoxious horns that play "Dixieland". I know it's not a positive ID but I'm sure it was him."
"Still why does he want to ruin me?" Kate whined.
"That we don't know but I'm sure we will find out," said Natalie trying to reassure her.
"What we need to do is find an assassin by the name of Francisco Duarte," said Dylan. "Rutherford said that his contact told him Duarte stole the eggs. I think if we find him he will lead us to the Chief."
*-*-*-*-*-*
Rutherford dropped Dylan off at her condo a little after midnight. She was exhausted and the alcohol in her system was starting to make her even sleepier. "Funny", she thought as she fumbled with the lock, "I can drink a two hundred pound Mongolian under the table but a couple of glasses of champagne go right to my head." As she opened the door and stepped into the stark white living room she was hit with memories of Anthony. She remembered making love with him on the snowy alpaca throw rug. When she had come back from chasing the Chief, having Anthony at her side was like before. She had missed that feeling.
She sighed and went into the bedroom and got ready for bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed she sighed, she didn't want to sleep. Sleep meant the day was over and in the morning she was expecting Anthony to come by and pick up his things, she felt like an era, albeit brief, was over and she wasn't ready for that.. "Might as well make it quick and as painless as possible," she thought and got up to find a cardboard box. She walked around the room placing various things of his in the box, a CD of opera by Wagner, the book he had been reading, his biker boots and helmet. She smiled as she remembered racing him at the coal bowl. Then she sat down near the dresser and opened the drawer he had taken as his own. Picking up the immaculately folded socks and boxers; she placed them in a neat stack on the floor. Then she saw it, a small flash of royal purple hidden under a folded t-shirt. She lifted the shirt out of the drawer and reached inside for the velvet bag. She could feel a small yet heavy object inside and carefully untied the golden cord that held the bag closed. As she peered inside a gasp escaped her throat. Inside the bag was the Resurrection egg.
Dylan didn't want to believe it. Once again things weren't making sense if the Chief had stolen the eggs then why was one of them in Anthony's drawer. In her mind she could hear Alex's voice saying, "Dylan, the print belongs to Anthony." "It has to be another fake," she thought and realized the only way to find out would be to take it to Kate. She stood up and grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt and quickly got dressed. She retied the bag with the gold cord and slipped it inside of her purse. Then she headed back out into the night to Dimitri's house to find out what was going on.
*-*-*-*-*
Rutherford went home after he dropped Dylan off dismissing the driver's services for the evening. Then he went to the garage and climbed into his Mercedes-C class sedan. He drove the streets of Beverly Hills until he arrived at a large plantation style home surrounded by an imposing wall. The gate was closed which didn't surprise him. As he pressed the button for his power window the tinted glass pane slid slowly down and he reached and pushed the buzzer on the intercom with his thumb.
"Yes," said the voice of the person answering.
"I'm here to see him. It's Rutherford." The gate slid open with a slight hiss and he drove the car through. As he pulled up in front of the house he could hear the yapping yorkies inside. The front door swung open and Rutherford cringed. He hated the man's ornate eccentricity, an example of which was the scantily dressed muscle bound bodyguard that greeted him. "To each his own," he supposed and wondered if the man was straight if he would have nubile nymphets instead.
"Mr. Rutherford," the muscular man grunted, "follow me." Without another option he followed the man in the golden Speedo and was led into the same room in which Francisco had all his meetings with the Chief. "He will be with you in a minute." The bodyguard left the room shutting the double mahogany doors behind him. Neville paced the room and glanced periodically at his watch. A large Elvis, with a curled lip on black velvet stared at him from above the fireplace. After making him wait close to twenty minutes the Chief appeared.
"Neville," he cried cheerily and taking a seat behind the large heavy wood desk, "to what do I owe this visit?"
"I'm curious as to why you went to the museum tonight. I have everything under control. The angel has a broken heart and from what I can tell Anthony and the museum woman are the prime suspects."
"Why? Who are you to ask me why?" snapped the Chief.
"I am the man who is helping you that is who I am," yelled Rutherford. The Chief might have intimidated many a person but he wasn't one to be intimidated.
"You" yelled the Chief standing and straightening himself to his full five feet two inches tall, "are a man who slept with a sixteen year old girl and doesn't need the publicity. Where do you think your standing in the community would be if they knew you killed her?" As he calmed down he lowered his voice, "Yes Neville, I know it was an accident but either way you end up in prison. I don't think a man like you would like that very much. Would you? No, women there especially silicon enhanced sixteen year olds."
The color had drained from Rutherford's face. He remembered all too well why he was helping the smarmy little man. The girl had a seizure of some sort and died during intercourse, but he hadn't known she was sixteen and he had to get rid of the body. Looking back he realized he had panicked but that didn't fix the situation he was in, indebted to the Chief for his help. He hated the thought of what the man was doing to Dylan and although he didn't realize it he hoped he could redeem himself for what he had done to the girl by helping the red-haired angel. "Maybe I'll turn myself in and take you with me," said Rutherford a lot more confidently than he felt.
"Go ahead," said the Chief with an insane laugh. "They will want a body for proof and I don't think they will find one even if the dredge up the pacific between LA and Catalina. I'm sure the sharks have eaten it by now. Do what you are told and finish the job. As for your question I'll be kind this time and answer it. I was there because when this breaks open I want it to be public. What fun is this kind of game unless everyone knows? Go home get some sleep."
Rutherford turned to leave the room but the Chief called him back, "Neville?" He turned and found himself impaled on a long rapier that the Chief held in his hand. "On second thought don't go home just yet." A scarlet blossom of blood flowered on his shirt and a warm trickle ran down over his rib cage. He could feel it slithering down into the waistband of his pants. Rutherford was going into shock. "Don't worry; you're not going to die. This is just part of the game," were the last words Rutherford heard as he slowly dropped to his knees and passed out.
*-*-*-*-*
Anthony paced his bedroom in the old house. Smoke circled his head like a halo from the cigarette he puffed on as he wondered what the Chief's involvement could be. The fact that he made himself so visible was a clear sign he wanted them to know he was still out there but why the eggs? They were flashy enough for the Chief's taste but from what he knew of the man, he was not a collector.
Kate had just fallen asleep on the couch reading a newsletter from the Smithsonian when Dylan knocked on the door. She stirred slightly at the disruption and rolled over, the letter fluttered to the floor. Dylan knocked again a little harder and Kate awakened and wondered why Anthony didn't answer, then assumed he was asleep. Groggily she tightened her robe around herself and went peeped through the narrow window to the side. Seeing Dylan her first thought was she had come to make up with Anthony and she was reluctant to open the door. Dylan knocked again and Kate made out her muffled voice saying, "Kate, open up we have to talk."
Rolling her eyes she fumbled with the lock but didn't unhook the chain. Through the cracked door she said, "Go away Dylan, you'll see him in the morning," and closed the door again. Dylan pounded this time. Finally Kate threw open the door and said, "Maybe you didn't hear me but it's nearly two am. You will see Anton in the morning." And as an afterthought she added. "Oh and he doesn't want you anymore by the way."
Dylan narrowed her eyes and thought, "Bitch!" but she didn't say that. Somehow she managed to retain her temper and not let her personal feelings get in the way, it was a case after all and Charlie's reputation was affected by what they did or said. "Listen Kate, I actually came here to talk to you."
"Tomorrow Dylan, please go home to your lonely bed and leave us be," said Kate tiredly. She found she enjoyed messing with the angels emotions but she was sleepy and hoped that she could sneak into Anthony's bed.
Anthony stood at the top of the stairs listening to the women below. He made his way to the door and reaching over Kate's head pushed the door shut, unlocked the chain, and opened it again. Kate glared at him as he let the angel inside. "Thanks," said Dylan giving him a small smile. He just nodded to her. "I really am sorry I'm disturbing you," she said taking in Kate in her nightgown and robe while Anthony was still fully dressed minus the bow tie. "But I thought you would like to see this."
"What is it?" asked Kate very put out.
Dylan slipped her hand into her purse and brought out the purple velvet bag. "This. Oh and here," she handed Kate a pair of latex gloves, "put these on."
"My God," said Kate upon seeing the bag. She was so shocked she didn't think twice about Dylan's request for gloves and slipped them on without complaint. "Where did you get this?" she asked sliding the egg out of the bag. She turned it over in her hands.
"I don't want to say until you tell me if it's real or not and I take it back to the agency and have it checked for prints." Dylan watched Anthony's face for any sign of recognition or surprise and saw none, not that she expected to. "So, is it real?"
Kate nodded. She was speechless. All the markings were there and correct; MP for the artist Michael Perchin and the crossed anchors to signify it was made in St. Petersburg and the small scratch that supposedly happened when Czar Nicholas' son Alexi dropped it. She had never been so happy in her whole life. Finally she said, "Yes, oh yes it is real. It's wonderfully, perfectly real. I am sorry I treated you badly when you showed up tonight. It's really the Resurrection egg." Dylan wouldn't have been surprised if she hugged and kissed it. "I'll take this to the museum tomorrow and swap it for the fake."
"Not so fast, it has to be checked for clues. I need to take it back." Dylan held out the velvet bag for Kate to place the egg back in. Hesitantly Kate complied and said, "When will you be doing the exam? I want to be there."
"I'll call Alex and Natalie and set it up for first thing in the morning, nine o'clock?"
"Fine I'll be there. I am so excited. I doubt I can get to sleep," squealed Kate as she ran up the stairs leaving Dylan alone with Anthony.
The two of them looked at each other. "So," Dylan said awkwardly, "I guess we will have to postpone picking up the rest of your things until later today." He reached out and touched her hair. "Please don't," she said sadly. He nodded then said softly, "We really need to talk, just the two of us." She looked so unhappy all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and hold her close. "I know we do but not now. When you come by later." She picked up the bag the egg was in and put it in her purse, gave him a brief smile and went out the door.
She sat in her car for a moment and rested her head on the steering wheel. "Why can't I just move on?" she asked herself but she knew the answer she didn't want to move on, she still loved him. Regardless of Kate's arrogant attitude when she arrived it was obvious they hadn't done anything. She smiled recalling how she and Anthony would rip each other's clothes off the moment they had the condo door shut. Okay she corrected herself, she would be ripping and he would be as contained as ever, still the fact that he was dressed when she arrived and Kate had obviously been asleep gave her a glimmer of hope. Maybe their relationship could be salvaged.
It was three am by the time Dylan got home. She crawled into her bed fully dressed and slept fitfully until six when her phone rang. Rolling over she picked up the receiver and slapped her forehead, she forgot to call the angels about the egg. "Dylan its Natalie," said the voice from the other end.
"Nat it's." she looked at the clock, "six a.m. What's going on?"
"It's Rutherford. He was found in a back ally almost dead, he had the office number on him so the hospital called and the phone was forwarded to me. Alex and I are there now."
"How is he? What happened?" asked Dylan concerned. She truly had begun to like the man.
"He is critical but they expect him to pull through. He lost a lot of blood; someone stabbed him through the shoulder with a rapier." At Natalie's words Dylan dropped the receiver and prayed that Anthony wasn't responsible.
*-*-*-*-*
Anthony and Dylan entered Kate's office on the third floor. Dylan was a surprised that Rutherford was there as well as the angels, and Kate looked surprised to see her practically arm and arm with Anthony. "Dylan," cried Natalie upon seeing her friend, "Are you okay? Who were you following?"
Dylan looked at Anthony and said, "The Chief".
"Who is he? Why does he want to ruin my career?" asked Kate fighting to hold back tears. She invested everything into her job and moving to California now it looked like some stranger was going to have her sent to prison and she wanted to know why.
"The Chief," said Dylan, "Is an.I guess you could call him an outsourcer for assassins. He employees them like a factory would hire workers. Or at least he did. We had the FBI go in a couple weeks ago and break up his operation. They caught eleven of his permanent employees but the Chief has more. The FBI was hoping that they could catch him as well and that he would help them and Interpol uncover several others but he somehow got away. Last we heard there were no leads on where he had gone and now he turns up here."
"Are you sure it was him?" asked Natalie.
"Pretty sure. He had a different car. Last time he had a black limo but this time it was white with long horn cattle horns on the front and one of those obnoxious horns that play "Dixieland". I know it's not a positive ID but I'm sure it was him."
"Still why does he want to ruin me?" Kate whined.
"That we don't know but I'm sure we will find out," said Natalie trying to reassure her.
"What we need to do is find an assassin by the name of Francisco Duarte," said Dylan. "Rutherford said that his contact told him Duarte stole the eggs. I think if we find him he will lead us to the Chief."
*-*-*-*-*-*
Rutherford dropped Dylan off at her condo a little after midnight. She was exhausted and the alcohol in her system was starting to make her even sleepier. "Funny", she thought as she fumbled with the lock, "I can drink a two hundred pound Mongolian under the table but a couple of glasses of champagne go right to my head." As she opened the door and stepped into the stark white living room she was hit with memories of Anthony. She remembered making love with him on the snowy alpaca throw rug. When she had come back from chasing the Chief, having Anthony at her side was like before. She had missed that feeling.
She sighed and went into the bedroom and got ready for bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed she sighed, she didn't want to sleep. Sleep meant the day was over and in the morning she was expecting Anthony to come by and pick up his things, she felt like an era, albeit brief, was over and she wasn't ready for that.. "Might as well make it quick and as painless as possible," she thought and got up to find a cardboard box. She walked around the room placing various things of his in the box, a CD of opera by Wagner, the book he had been reading, his biker boots and helmet. She smiled as she remembered racing him at the coal bowl. Then she sat down near the dresser and opened the drawer he had taken as his own. Picking up the immaculately folded socks and boxers; she placed them in a neat stack on the floor. Then she saw it, a small flash of royal purple hidden under a folded t-shirt. She lifted the shirt out of the drawer and reached inside for the velvet bag. She could feel a small yet heavy object inside and carefully untied the golden cord that held the bag closed. As she peered inside a gasp escaped her throat. Inside the bag was the Resurrection egg.
Dylan didn't want to believe it. Once again things weren't making sense if the Chief had stolen the eggs then why was one of them in Anthony's drawer. In her mind she could hear Alex's voice saying, "Dylan, the print belongs to Anthony." "It has to be another fake," she thought and realized the only way to find out would be to take it to Kate. She stood up and grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt and quickly got dressed. She retied the bag with the gold cord and slipped it inside of her purse. Then she headed back out into the night to Dimitri's house to find out what was going on.
*-*-*-*-*
Rutherford went home after he dropped Dylan off dismissing the driver's services for the evening. Then he went to the garage and climbed into his Mercedes-C class sedan. He drove the streets of Beverly Hills until he arrived at a large plantation style home surrounded by an imposing wall. The gate was closed which didn't surprise him. As he pressed the button for his power window the tinted glass pane slid slowly down and he reached and pushed the buzzer on the intercom with his thumb.
"Yes," said the voice of the person answering.
"I'm here to see him. It's Rutherford." The gate slid open with a slight hiss and he drove the car through. As he pulled up in front of the house he could hear the yapping yorkies inside. The front door swung open and Rutherford cringed. He hated the man's ornate eccentricity, an example of which was the scantily dressed muscle bound bodyguard that greeted him. "To each his own," he supposed and wondered if the man was straight if he would have nubile nymphets instead.
"Mr. Rutherford," the muscular man grunted, "follow me." Without another option he followed the man in the golden Speedo and was led into the same room in which Francisco had all his meetings with the Chief. "He will be with you in a minute." The bodyguard left the room shutting the double mahogany doors behind him. Neville paced the room and glanced periodically at his watch. A large Elvis, with a curled lip on black velvet stared at him from above the fireplace. After making him wait close to twenty minutes the Chief appeared.
"Neville," he cried cheerily and taking a seat behind the large heavy wood desk, "to what do I owe this visit?"
"I'm curious as to why you went to the museum tonight. I have everything under control. The angel has a broken heart and from what I can tell Anthony and the museum woman are the prime suspects."
"Why? Who are you to ask me why?" snapped the Chief.
"I am the man who is helping you that is who I am," yelled Rutherford. The Chief might have intimidated many a person but he wasn't one to be intimidated.
"You" yelled the Chief standing and straightening himself to his full five feet two inches tall, "are a man who slept with a sixteen year old girl and doesn't need the publicity. Where do you think your standing in the community would be if they knew you killed her?" As he calmed down he lowered his voice, "Yes Neville, I know it was an accident but either way you end up in prison. I don't think a man like you would like that very much. Would you? No, women there especially silicon enhanced sixteen year olds."
The color had drained from Rutherford's face. He remembered all too well why he was helping the smarmy little man. The girl had a seizure of some sort and died during intercourse, but he hadn't known she was sixteen and he had to get rid of the body. Looking back he realized he had panicked but that didn't fix the situation he was in, indebted to the Chief for his help. He hated the thought of what the man was doing to Dylan and although he didn't realize it he hoped he could redeem himself for what he had done to the girl by helping the red-haired angel. "Maybe I'll turn myself in and take you with me," said Rutherford a lot more confidently than he felt.
"Go ahead," said the Chief with an insane laugh. "They will want a body for proof and I don't think they will find one even if the dredge up the pacific between LA and Catalina. I'm sure the sharks have eaten it by now. Do what you are told and finish the job. As for your question I'll be kind this time and answer it. I was there because when this breaks open I want it to be public. What fun is this kind of game unless everyone knows? Go home get some sleep."
Rutherford turned to leave the room but the Chief called him back, "Neville?" He turned and found himself impaled on a long rapier that the Chief held in his hand. "On second thought don't go home just yet." A scarlet blossom of blood flowered on his shirt and a warm trickle ran down over his rib cage. He could feel it slithering down into the waistband of his pants. Rutherford was going into shock. "Don't worry; you're not going to die. This is just part of the game," were the last words Rutherford heard as he slowly dropped to his knees and passed out.
*-*-*-*-*
Anthony paced his bedroom in the old house. Smoke circled his head like a halo from the cigarette he puffed on as he wondered what the Chief's involvement could be. The fact that he made himself so visible was a clear sign he wanted them to know he was still out there but why the eggs? They were flashy enough for the Chief's taste but from what he knew of the man, he was not a collector.
Kate had just fallen asleep on the couch reading a newsletter from the Smithsonian when Dylan knocked on the door. She stirred slightly at the disruption and rolled over, the letter fluttered to the floor. Dylan knocked again a little harder and Kate awakened and wondered why Anthony didn't answer, then assumed he was asleep. Groggily she tightened her robe around herself and went peeped through the narrow window to the side. Seeing Dylan her first thought was she had come to make up with Anthony and she was reluctant to open the door. Dylan knocked again and Kate made out her muffled voice saying, "Kate, open up we have to talk."
Rolling her eyes she fumbled with the lock but didn't unhook the chain. Through the cracked door she said, "Go away Dylan, you'll see him in the morning," and closed the door again. Dylan pounded this time. Finally Kate threw open the door and said, "Maybe you didn't hear me but it's nearly two am. You will see Anton in the morning." And as an afterthought she added. "Oh and he doesn't want you anymore by the way."
Dylan narrowed her eyes and thought, "Bitch!" but she didn't say that. Somehow she managed to retain her temper and not let her personal feelings get in the way, it was a case after all and Charlie's reputation was affected by what they did or said. "Listen Kate, I actually came here to talk to you."
"Tomorrow Dylan, please go home to your lonely bed and leave us be," said Kate tiredly. She found she enjoyed messing with the angels emotions but she was sleepy and hoped that she could sneak into Anthony's bed.
Anthony stood at the top of the stairs listening to the women below. He made his way to the door and reaching over Kate's head pushed the door shut, unlocked the chain, and opened it again. Kate glared at him as he let the angel inside. "Thanks," said Dylan giving him a small smile. He just nodded to her. "I really am sorry I'm disturbing you," she said taking in Kate in her nightgown and robe while Anthony was still fully dressed minus the bow tie. "But I thought you would like to see this."
"What is it?" asked Kate very put out.
Dylan slipped her hand into her purse and brought out the purple velvet bag. "This. Oh and here," she handed Kate a pair of latex gloves, "put these on."
"My God," said Kate upon seeing the bag. She was so shocked she didn't think twice about Dylan's request for gloves and slipped them on without complaint. "Where did you get this?" she asked sliding the egg out of the bag. She turned it over in her hands.
"I don't want to say until you tell me if it's real or not and I take it back to the agency and have it checked for prints." Dylan watched Anthony's face for any sign of recognition or surprise and saw none, not that she expected to. "So, is it real?"
Kate nodded. She was speechless. All the markings were there and correct; MP for the artist Michael Perchin and the crossed anchors to signify it was made in St. Petersburg and the small scratch that supposedly happened when Czar Nicholas' son Alexi dropped it. She had never been so happy in her whole life. Finally she said, "Yes, oh yes it is real. It's wonderfully, perfectly real. I am sorry I treated you badly when you showed up tonight. It's really the Resurrection egg." Dylan wouldn't have been surprised if she hugged and kissed it. "I'll take this to the museum tomorrow and swap it for the fake."
"Not so fast, it has to be checked for clues. I need to take it back." Dylan held out the velvet bag for Kate to place the egg back in. Hesitantly Kate complied and said, "When will you be doing the exam? I want to be there."
"I'll call Alex and Natalie and set it up for first thing in the morning, nine o'clock?"
"Fine I'll be there. I am so excited. I doubt I can get to sleep," squealed Kate as she ran up the stairs leaving Dylan alone with Anthony.
The two of them looked at each other. "So," Dylan said awkwardly, "I guess we will have to postpone picking up the rest of your things until later today." He reached out and touched her hair. "Please don't," she said sadly. He nodded then said softly, "We really need to talk, just the two of us." She looked so unhappy all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and hold her close. "I know we do but not now. When you come by later." She picked up the bag the egg was in and put it in her purse, gave him a brief smile and went out the door.
She sat in her car for a moment and rested her head on the steering wheel. "Why can't I just move on?" she asked herself but she knew the answer she didn't want to move on, she still loved him. Regardless of Kate's arrogant attitude when she arrived it was obvious they hadn't done anything. She smiled recalling how she and Anthony would rip each other's clothes off the moment they had the condo door shut. Okay she corrected herself, she would be ripping and he would be as contained as ever, still the fact that he was dressed when she arrived and Kate had obviously been asleep gave her a glimmer of hope. Maybe their relationship could be salvaged.
It was three am by the time Dylan got home. She crawled into her bed fully dressed and slept fitfully until six when her phone rang. Rolling over she picked up the receiver and slapped her forehead, she forgot to call the angels about the egg. "Dylan its Natalie," said the voice from the other end.
"Nat it's." she looked at the clock, "six a.m. What's going on?"
"It's Rutherford. He was found in a back ally almost dead, he had the office number on him so the hospital called and the phone was forwarded to me. Alex and I are there now."
"How is he? What happened?" asked Dylan concerned. She truly had begun to like the man.
"He is critical but they expect him to pull through. He lost a lot of blood; someone stabbed him through the shoulder with a rapier." At Natalie's words Dylan dropped the receiver and prayed that Anthony wasn't responsible.