Notes: A couple of lines were added to the last two scenes of the previous chapter to make my intentions more clear. Many thanks to Kaze and Lisa for plot help, and to Manders1953 for the inspiration of Vincent's last line and action!
Chapter Ten
"The telephone is on the desk there," the man directed.
"Okay. Thanks!" Oliver said, hurrying over to the device. Marlene followed, glancing at the decor. Vases, urns, and other objects of Chinese and Japanese origin had been placed at key locations around the room. It was fascinating, the way it had all been arranged. It looked like it had been done by a professional. Maybe it even had been.
"You say you were taken by people who work for Del Vinci?" Their host crossed his arms, watching as Oliver picked up the receiver and began to dial 911.
"Yeah," Marlene said. "It was awful."
"What would this Del Vinci want with you?" He studied Marlene, his ice-blue eyes piercing in their gaze.
She looked away, uncomfortable. "I don't know," she said truthfully. Maybe it would be better not to mention anything about this Julieanna person or the fact that they thought Oliver knew where she was. The man had let them come in, but was he trustworthy? She did not like the way he was looking at her. Or the fact that a cold breeze had just passed by when there was nothing around to make it.
"I know you're the ward of Cloud Strife," he answered, his voice flat. "Does Del Vinci want something with him?"
Marlene's eyes widened. "How do you know about Cloud?" she demanded.
"Ooh, she's fiesty," an almost identical voice purred from another location.
Marlene whirled to look in that direction. No one was there. She frowned, looking back at the man--who was also looking in that direction, annoyance written on his features.
"Nevermind that," he said, finally glancing back at Marlene.
"What was it?" Oliver frowned, hanging up with the police. They had promised to search through the area and to go to the house where Oliver and Marlene had originally been taken. The officer he had spoken to had commented on all the trouble Del Vinci seemed to be causing of late, referring to the earlier call to investigate one of Del Vinci's manors. Oliver had just replied with a "Yeah" instead of going on to say that the first call had been placed because of him, too. He wanted them to hurry, not to linger talking about him.
"It's nothing to worry about," their host replied now. "Are you planning to call Cloud as well?"
Marlene nodded. "Yeah."
"I want to speak with him when you reach him." It was a statement, not a request.
Marlene reached for the phone, dialing Cloud's cellphone number. "Does he know you?" she asked, still defensive.
"Yes." The man remained unruffled, while Oliver gave him a suspicious glare.
Marlene shifted her weight. The phone had rung two, three times. Would Cloud answer? Or was he in trouble too? What if more of Del Vinci's men had found him and the others?
Finally there was a click.
"Yeah?" Cloud sounded strained and worried. Aerith or Tifa had probably already told him about the kidnapping.
"Cloud!" Marlene exclaimed. She did not know if she had ever been this relieved to hear him.
"Marlene?!" Now Cloud was shocked, as if not quite willing to believe this was real. "Where are you?"
"At some man's house," she said. "Oliver and I got away from the bad men and fell down a hill and came to a house to get help. Del Vinci's men are looking for us!"
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"We're okay!" she said. "What about Aerith and Tifa?!"
"They're fine," Cloud said. "Can you give me the address of the house you're at?"
"No," Marlene said with hesitance. "But this man wants to talk to you. Maybe he can tell you."
"Huh?"
Marlene passed the phone to their host, who accepted it with his left hand. "Your ward's been getting into a lot of trouble," he said into the mouthpiece. "And she's picked up a new friend."
If Cloud had been stunned before, now he was floored. "Azazel Rakesh?!" he said in disbelief. Overhearing through the phone, Marlene stiffened.
"Yes, they happened to find our house," Azazel said. "It's a strange coincidence." He crossed his right arm over his chest, placing his hand on his left upper arm. "What does Del Vinci have to do with you?"
"What does he have to do with you?" Cloud retorted, not entirely sure he liked the idea of Marlene being in Azazel and Dalton's house.
"He shouldn't have anything to do with us," Azazel said. "But I've heard the name."
"He's got some of our stuff in his manor, but we don't know where it is," Cloud grumbled. "The kid Oliver can tell you the rest. We still don't know how mixed up Del Vinci is in the case as a whole. We have to talk to Linda first. But right now we're coming there. Don't let anything happen to the kids," he added, his tone harsh.
"I wasn't planning to," Azazel said dryly. "Do you need the address?"
"No," Cloud said. "We got it off one of the notes that was sent to the eavesdropper."
"Well, that's convenient," Azazel remarked, obviously displeased that the note sender had learned it. He was not very happy that Cloud and the others knew it, either.
Oliver walked over near Marlene. "What kind of weird place is this?" he hissed. "It feels like everything's looking at us!"
Marlene shook her head. "I don't like it," she declared. And she liked it even less now that she realized they were in Azazel Rakesh's home. Dalton was supposed to live here too. Hopefully Cloud would come soon and get them away from here. And hopefully Del Vinci and his men would be caught before they could hurt anyone else.
A red-haired woman suddenly sauntered into the room from another location down the hall. "Oh, so this is why it's been taking you so long to come back?" she commented to Azazel, even though he was still on the phone. She looked to the children, studying them with her sharp green eyes. Her gaze rested on Oliver for much longer. He flinched.
"Why are you here?!" he screamed.
Azazel narrowed his eyes at all the noise as he replaced the receiver back in its cradle. "Do you know each other?" he asked, looking back and forth between the boy and the woman.
"Why, of course not!" she exclaimed, placing a hand to her chest as if to say "Who, me?" She tossed her red curls back over her shoulder. "I'm Mr. Rakesh's secretary, darling," she added, looking to Oliver with a definite superior air laced by false sweetness. "Your untimely arrival interrupted some work we were doing."
Oliver shook his head with vehemence, taking a step back. "You came and talked to Del Vinci sometimes!" he accused. "You're part of the whole thing!" He looked to Azazel. "And that means we can't trust you, either!"
Genuine shock registered on Azazel's features. He frowned, looking back to the redhead. "Is this true?" he demanded.
Now she was the one to look surprised. "You can't mean you believe this disrespectful delinquent, Azazel darling?!" she cried, looking for all the world like a wounded deer. "I've worked with you all these months, and then for my word to be cast aside like an old shoe. . . ."
"Save it. I never did like your flirting ways and your mock sense of innocence," Azazel retorted. "The boy doesn't have any reason to lie. You do." He narrowed his eyes. "How does Del Vinci fit into any of this? How do you?"
Marlene looked back and forth between them. Her heart was beginning to pound again. She had not liked the creepy feeling in this house, but she had hoped that she and Oliver would not be in actual danger here, since Cloud was working with Azazel and Dalton on this mystery. Now what was going to happen? If the secretary had been to see Del Vinci, would she try to take them back to him now? Would Azazel try to stop her at all? She gripped a handful of the bottom of her sweater shirt.
"You'd better answer him, Vivalene," the mysterious voice from nowhere purred again.
The woman glared in its general direction. "I'm really so insulted," she said, turning back to Azazel. "Even using your ventriloquism against me. I believe I'll be announcing my resignation on the spot. I can certainly find a better job elsewhere."
"Such as with Del Vinci?" Azazel retorted. He reached into his suit jacket with his left hand, drawing out a revolver. Marlene gasped in alarm.
"Now, now," Vivalene purred, her entire demeanor shifting. "Do we really need to resort to such naughty tactics? But of course." From her handbag she withdrew a weapon of her own, but instead of pointing it at Azazel, she trained it on Marlene. The poor girl stiffened.
"What are you doing?!" Oliver yelled.
"Well, you see, the girl really was never meant to be part of the equation," Vivalene said, her smile dark and cold. "She shouldn't have been picked up in the first place. So maybe . . . eliminating her from the equation would solve a few problems. And you . . ." She frowned at Oliver. "Did you really think you could fool us, or rather, me? I can recognize an amateur."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Oliver said in defiance.
Vivalene sighed in a bored sort of way. "No, I suppose you wouldn't," she conceded.
Suddenly she froze as a weapon was held at her own back.
"I must confess, I don't quite know what's being discussed, either," a broad man remarked, having come up from behind Vivalene. "But I do know this is far too much commotion for me."
A smirk crossed Vivalene's features. "You don't let even amnesia slow you down, Dalton darling," she commented. "I wasn't really surprised when you came with Azazel to the company today. After all, Casey did his job so well and reported that you'd met up with each other. The 'eavesdropper', you know." Apparently she had been listening to Azazel and Cloud's telephone conversation on an extension.
"You hired him?" Azazel glared.
"Oh no," she replied. "But I heard his reports."
Oliver grabbed Marlene's wrist. "They're all occupied," he hissed. "Let's hide somewhere while we wait for Cloud."
"But where?" Marlene exclaimed. "And what if he comes and they're all shooting at each other and he gets hurt?!"
"You're the one who figured he'd be just fine," Oliver retorted. "What are you thinking about doing? If you stand around here, you'll probably get shot by the crazy lady." He moved to run to the right into the large kitchen. With her wrist still being clutched, Marlene was forced to run with him.
A silent bullet landed in the floor right at her feet. She cried out, leaping aside. Oliver stopped, looking back to her.
"Leaving so soon?" Vivalene said, blowing out the whiff of smoke from her gun. "I think not."
"I'd really prefer not to kill you yet," Azazel frowned. "You have information I want. Unfortunately, I'm probably not going to get it from you." His revolver clicked as he switched off the safety.
"Indeed," Dalton said, "you seem quite taciturn on the subject. However, I must wonder if you're the second-in-command referred to at the location where I was being held hostage, as they did say 'she.' And since I am not the commander-in-chief of this little smuggling ring, as Marcel and the others tried to make me believe, perhaps that actually makes you the ringleader?"
Vivalene paused. "Or perhaps it means that there is still someone above me," she said. "At least, someone who thinks he's in charge, as you do. Such a pity you both have to be proven wrong!" Without warning she whirled, firing point blank at Dalton. At the same moment, Azazel opened fire on her.
Marlene screamed, looking away from the sight. Oliver gripped her wrist tighter, running into the kitchen and pulling her with him.
"She's the one in charge, alright," he muttered as he looked for a place where they could hide. "I always sensed it. She was just leading Del Vinci on while he was useful to her. Maybe she's even already done away with him and that's why he wasn't home."
"Why is she doing these things?!" Marlene exclaimed. She broke away from Oliver, running to a large cabinet in the island counter. Throwing open the oak wood door, she found the space beyond to be empty. But it would not fit both of them. She looked to Oliver, motioning for him to get inside.
He shook his head, indicating for her to enter. Everything was now quiet in the living room. If Vivalene had survived, she would be coming in here any minute. He pushed on Marlene's back, trying to get her to climb into the space. Finally, frightened, she began to obey. He did not answer her question, not wanting to give any hints to Vivalene about their location by speaking. Instead he moved to close the cabinet.
Marlene stared at him, her wide brown eyes shining in the dark space. What was going to happen to him? Was he going to let Vivalene take him, if she came in? Maybe he was having her hide because Vivalene had said that she was not important. But what had the awful woman meant by saying that Oliver had not fooled her and that he was an amateur? He was not part of the plot, was he? No, she would not believe that he had been working on Del Vinci's side! He was sincere about his disgust of that man.
The cupboard door closed halfway before the mysterious voice, eerily similar to Azazel's, stopped Oliver in his act. "What have we here? Two scared little mice, hiding from the cat."
Oliver turned around, glaring at thin air. "Who are you?" he demanded.
Marlene gasped as an Azazel lookalike made himself visible. "Hello," he greeted.
And then it all clicked together in her mind. Too much had been happening at once for her to fully process any of it until now. If they had been talking to Azazel Rakesh in the living room, and Dalton had been there too, then this could only be one person.
"You're the mean ghost that controlled Cloud!" she spat.
Oliver gave her a weird look. "Ghost?" he said.
Marlene nodded. "Yeah!" She frowned at the spectre, who only looked amused. "Shouldn't you be out there, helping your brother and Dalton?"
"They don't need my help now," was the reply.
"Are they dead?" Marlene said with suspicion.
"If they were, you'd see them here with me," the ghost replied, purposely obnoxious. "And the woman's gone too. You can go ahead and come out."
Marlene did not trust him, but she began to move towards the doorway of the cabinet. "Where did she go?" she asked.
"Out the window. But she didn't get away unscathed." The spirit sounded proud. "Azazel shot her in the shoulder. That should slow her down a little, anyway."
"How could Dalton not be dead?" Oliver frowned. "Vivalene shot him in the face."
"Actually, she shot off my glasses."
The children whirled at the sound of Dalton's voice. He was standing in the doorway, looking somewhat perturbed as he held up the two severed pieces of his eyeglasses. The bullet had struck them right in the center, on the part that fit over the bridge of the nose. A bit of blood trickled from a cut on his forehead, but it was a superficial wound.
"You were lucky," Azazel commented in a matter-of-fact tone as he came up alongside his ally. He appeared unharmed, though annoyed by Vivalene's escape.
"And all of this over a couple of children?" Dalton said, looking to Oliver and Marlene. "Whatever have you done to catch the interest of someone like Del Vinci?"
Oliver shrugged, kicking at the linoleum. He did not particularly want to tell these people about his past. He did not trust them, and it was apparent that Marlene did not think very highly of them.
"He thinks Oliver knows something he doesn't," Marlene spoke, hoping to end the subject.
Instead it was a sharp knock on the door that redirected everyone's attention.
"I do hope that's Mr. Strife and not another problem," Dalton said.
"Not that 'Mr. Strife' being at our house isn't a problem," the ghost said. "Of course Sephiroth and Commander Fair will be with him."
Azazel grunted. "You'll have to deal with it," he replied. "And both of you stay in the kitchen," he added, looking to Marlene and Oliver. "If it's Del Vinci's men, then Gunju will take you somewhere else."
"Me?" the ghost retorted. "Why?"
"Because you can pull tricks that Dalton and I can't," Azazel said, giving him a bored look as he crossed into the living room.
Oliver folded his arms. "I don't want some ghost looking after us," he said.
"Well, I don't either, especially this one," Marlene frowned. "But we'll have to anyway. Cloud's coming here, if he's not here now. We need to wait for him." She strained, desperation building as she listened for a familiar voice. It had to be Cloud. He had to be okay.
And right now she wanted nothing more than to get home and to have this whole nightmarish experience come to an end. She would need to tell Cloud about Vivalene's weird comments to Oliver, too--but first she wanted to ask Oliver herself and see if he would tell her. And that would have to wait; he was not likely to say anything in the presence of Gunju.
"Are the kids still here?"
Relief washed over Marlene at the voice from the living room. She could not contain herself any longer. "Cloud!" she exclaimed, running past Oliver and into the living room. In the open doorway, Cloud was suddenly embraced by a frantic tornado.
"Marlene," he said in surprise, laying a hand on her shoulder.
Marlene buried her face in Cloud's shirt, hugging him close.
"We had a little excitement here," Dalton said, glancing back to the kitchen as Oliver stepped through the doorway.
Cloud frowned. "What happened?" he demanded. Whatever it was, it had badly shaken Marlene. And it had not done much for Dalton, either.
"My secretary is a traitor," Azazel said, crossing his arms. "She works with Del Vinci and tried to take the boy. She also tried to shoot the girl."
"Who is your secretary?" Sephiroth asked as he, Zack, and Angeal made their way to the porch. Cloud had gone ahead of them while Angeal had looked for a way to park on the icy driveway. When they had exited the vehicle to follow Cloud, Sephiroth had noticed blood in the snow--which was not something any of them had wanted to see.
"She gave her name to me as Vivalene," Azazel said.
Zack's mouth dropped open. "You've gotta be kidding! She was at Thorton's place earlier, before we found you guys. She was flirting with all of us."
Azazel narrowed his eyes. "I think you'd better all come in," he said. "We have more to discuss."
"Besides, you're letting in a draft," Dalton complained.
Cloud frowned, looking down to Marlene. What he would rather do would be to take the kids home now and then come back. But would it really be safer for them there? They had both been snatched from there tonight. And Azazel was right--they needed to talk about this new development. The kids would have their side of the story to tell too.
"Marlene, I know you probably want to go home now," he said.
She nodded, not looking up.
"But we need to know about what happened to you and Oliver tonight," Cloud continued. "And we need to talk about it and try to figure out how to stop it from happening again."
"Yeah. . . ." She sighed, finally looking up at him. "So we're staying?"
"Just for a little bit." He hoped.
Marlene looked downcast, but was willing to cooperate. She stepped back, allowing Cloud and the others to come in and shut the door behind them.
"By the way," Gunju remarked, coming out of the kitchen, "my brother has no knowledge of ventriloquism."
Zack blinked at him. "Eh?" he said, wondering if it was some in-joke that he was too tired to get.
"Nevermind," Azazel said with an irritated wave of his hand.
Genesis was sitting in his rental car in the dark, outside the hotel Vincent had chosen for Mr. Latham. Oddly enough, it was the same hotel where Genesis himself was registered. And that annoying woman Vivalene, too.
He was still not sure what to make of her. During their conversation the previous night over a drink or two, he had not learned much of anything. But she had not found anything out, either. He had made sure to tell her as little about himself as possible, and to give misleading responses to the queries he did answer.
She had said one very interesting thing, however--that if he wanted a good meal, he should go to Ambrogio's and say Vivalene had sent him. And then while staking out the location on his lunch break the next day, he had found Sephiroth and the others there as well. After overhearing a bit of their conversation on the restaurant's part in the matter concerning them, he had decided all the more that it would be worth investigating Ambrogio's. Hence, he had returned that evening using the fake name he had given Vincent.
He was really not any closer to a solution now than he had been in the afternoon. What he had learned only accentuated the confusion. It was as if he was putting together an enormous jigsaw puzzle. He had the borders, or some of them, but the interior was a mess. There was an assortment of pieces from all over the picture, and though he could see more or less the section where some of them fit, he could not yet connect them to any other pieces. Then there were still other pieces that did not seem to fit at all. The Del Vinci angle was one of those. It seemed completely independent of the smugglers' mystery that he had learned about, but intuition told him it was not. Everything connected in some way.
A shadow caught out of the corner of his eye brought his attention to the right. A yellow cab was pulling up to the curb. A single figure alighted, turned to pay the driver, and then began to come up the walkway. Mako eyes narrowed as he observed. It was a woman, he could tell that much. But as she passed under a streetlamp, his eyes widened in surprise. It was Vivalene.
Why had she not come in her pale blue car? More to the point, why was she walking with her right shoulder so stiff? She acted as though it pained her. And she was sporting a sling. He could see that now that she was closer. Without noticing his car, she passed by and walked towards the back entrance to the hotel. She did not want to be seen.
"Something tells me you've been up to some mischief," Genesis mused aloud. "And something tells me I'm going to turn the tables and follow you."
As quiet as possible, he opened the car door. Then he stepped out, shutting it behind him. By now Vivalene had slipped through the entrance. In a calm and nonchalant manner, Genesis walked across the parking lot and to the door as well. Pulling it open, he slipped inside.
Vivalene was going up the carpeted steps, apparently not even wanting to take her chances with the elevator. Or maybe she just liked stairs; she had used the stairwell to chase after him last night. The thought of turning her tactics against her was too amusing. Gripping the banister, Genesis started up after her.
"Oh, Ms. Vivalene," he spoke, never once abandoning his self-assured manner, "I was hoping I'd catch you."
She froze, turning on the stairs to look at him. For a moment nothing but annoyance and even anger over being interrupted flashed in her eyes. But then she smiled. "Why, Mr. Rhapsodos darling," she greeted, her voice thick and silky. "This is a surprise. Do tell me, how did you find me this way?" She took in his appearance. "And wherever did you go? Oh, I'm so sad you didn't ask me to come too."
"I was outside, watching the hotel," he smiled. "I saw you arrive by sheer coincidence. And you see me dressed this way because I took you up on your offer. I went to Ambrogio's tonight."
She did not seem surprised. "I knew it would be just the place for you," she said. "How did you like it?"
"Very well," he said, advancing another step. "And mentioning your name did get me a discount and even a free dessert. You must be an amazing benefactor for the business."
"I am quite well-liked there," she said, brushing her curls away from her face with her free hand.
He gave a deliberate pause. "There were some . . . odd developments too," he commented. "I don't know whether they had any connection with asking for you or not, but I wanted to mention them anyway." He pretended to scrutinize her sling. "It seems that you've had a very trying evening," he said.
She laughed. "A bit of an odd development on my part, too," she said. "Do come upstairs and we'll exchange tales."
"I hoped you would suggest it," he said.
She led him up the flights of stairs and to the floor they shared. As they reached her room, she fished her card key out of her purse and swiped it through the slot. The door clicked and she pushed it open.
"I'm really rather shocked about what happened to me," she said as she stepped inside and reached for the lightswitch. "It was my own employer who did this to me. Can you believe it? The man must be mad!"
Genesis followed, closing the door after him. "Why did he do it?" he asked. From what he knew of Azazel Rakesh, it did not seem a terribly far-fetched action. But he also had the feeling he was not going to get the complete story from this woman.
"I don't know," Vivalene said, a trace of sadness in her voice. "I'd finished his work for him and tried to . . . get a little closer to him. He didn't like that."
"He shot you because you were being seductive?" Genesis asked. Hmm, now he was picking up one of Sephiroth's traits. That was much more blunt than was usual for him.
"Well, I wouldn't put it quite like that," Vivalene said. "That makes me sound so . . . cheap." She crossed the room to the small refrigerator. "Would you like a drink?"
"No, thank you," he said. "I believe I had quite enough at Ambrogio's."
"You must have really enjoyed yourself, darling." Taking a glass out of the fridge, she placed it on the table and reached for a bottle of wine. Pouring herself a bit, she replaced the bottle, closed the fridge, and took up the glass. "A toast to an eventful evening," she said. "Now, how about telling me of the odd things at the restaurant?"
He watched her carefully as he spoke. "A waitress whom the owner claims does not work there left me a message," he said. "She said a Mr. Latham wanted to see me. So I went to his table and found that Mr. Latham really had no idea who I was, nor did he know anything about a message. He was very excitable. In the end he believed I made it all up because I wanted to kill him."
Vivalene showed no reaction. "Oh my," she said, sipping the wine. "What happened?"
"Another man dining there confirmed my story that there was a waitress," he said. "Later he took Mr. Latham home."
"A friend of his, then?" she mused.
"I don't believe they'd ever met," Genesis returned.
"And what about this waitress?" Vivalene walked over to where the couch was located. As she sank into it, she gestured for Genesis to do the same. "Please sit down, darling," she invited.
He sat on the edge of the couch, again watching her for a reaction. "The most interesting thing about the waitress was that she reminded me of you," he said.
"Really," Vivalene said. Finishing off the wine, she set the glass down and turned her full attention to him. She looked more intrigued now than anything else. "How so?"
"There were so many reasons," he answered. "She was about the same size and height as you. Her eyes were blue, but her hair was red. It was a darker shade, yet I thought of you anyway. And there was the whole matter of how she stirred up such a commotion and then disappeared. That sounds like something you might do as well."
Something flickered in her eyes. Was it surprise? Suspicion? Apprehension?
She leaned back, a smile gracing her features. "I should like to meet her," she said, acting altogether oblivious to what Genesis was insinuating.
"Maybe you have," he said.
Her eyes widened as she laid a hand on her chest. "Surely you don't think I . . ."
"With a bit of makeup I'm sure you could pull it off," he told her. "Did you take drama class in school?"
She shrugged. "I believe I was in a school play or two." She smirked, resting her elbow on the top of the couch. "Unfortunately, I couldn't have played the waitress, as I was with Azazel all evening after Fragmented Triangle closed. But for sport's sake let's say I did it anyway! First I would need a motive. What reason could I possibly have for doing such a thing?"
"Maybe you wanted to see how I would handle the chaos that ensued?" Genesis mused. "You seemed to be sizing me up for something. Do I make the cut?"
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Rhapsodos," Vivalene smiled. "Though I was wondering what kind of a catch you would be."
He turned to further face her, copying her motion of propping himself up on an elbow. "And?"
"I believe it would be . . . very . . . fascinating." She leaned in, as if intending to kiss him.
And the door crashed against the wall, banging on its hinges.
Both Vivalene and Genesis looked up with a start. A very unamused Vincent was standing in the doorway, gun in hand.
Vivalene leaned back, quickly regaining her composure. "Well, I know the sign on my door says 'Please Knock', but I really wasn't expecting such a ferocious display of knocking," she said. "Pray tell, who are you, darling?"
"I want some answers," Vincent said, ignoring her question. "Who are you? Both of you." He stepped into the room, kicking the door shut behind him.
"I already gave you my name," Genesis said, getting to his feet.
"Gackt. I know." Vincent trained the gun on the auburn-haired man. "What's your real name?"
"Aren't you supposed to be with Mr. Latham?" Genesis returned.
"Mr. Latham is on his way to the hospital," Vincent growled. "Something he ate or drank was poisoned. It had a delayed reaction." He peered at the other man. "And in light of everything that's been happening tonight, I wonder if he was on the right track when he said you wanted to kill him."
Genesis stared. "He actually was poisoned?" he exclaimed. "How bad is it?"
"I don't know. I guess we'll find out sooner or later." Vincent glowered. "You haven't answered my question."
"Pardon me, but I would like one answered," Vivalene interjected. "This is my room. This nice man with whom you seem to be acquainted has a different room. How did you know to come here?"
"I was just down the hall when you came up," Vincent said. "I listened and waited until it was the right time to come in."
"But it really wasn't," Vivalene objected. "We were just getting to know each other better."
He frowned at her. "I bet."
"And you're such a naughty boy, to be eavesdropping," Vivalene smirked. "Not to mention breaking and entering. Why, I could scream for help right now and everyone on this floor would come running."
"But you won't." His eyes narrowed further. "You don't want to draw any more attention to yourself."
"Alright. So what do you want?" she asked, standing up as well. "Besides this man's name. I know it, but I won't tell you." She winked. "Not unless you can pay my price. I could use a good ruby."
He was unamused. "I want to know what's going on with Del Vinci and Latham and what kind of involvement you have with it."
Without warning his phone rang. In irritation he dug it out of his pocket, while still keeping the gun steady in his other hand. As he flipped open the phone and brought it to his ear, Cloud's voice came over the receiver.
"Vincent?"
"What is it." His tone of voice said for Cloud to quickly arrive at the point.
"Things just got more weird here," Cloud said. "We were talking about everything else that's happened and Zack wondered if you've found out anything new."
Vincent looked from G to Vivalene. He did not want to say much in front of them. "You go first," he said.
Cloud proceeded to tell about Del Vinci's manor, the abduction, and the showdown at Azazel Rakesh's house. Vincent's feelings toward Vivalene only grew more unfavorable.
"I might have something for you," he said. "I'll call you back." With that he hung up.
"Who was that?" Vivalene asked, raising an eyebrow. "Your client?" Apparently she thought he was a mercenary too. Or G had told her that.
"Someone who told me something interesting," he said. "Five people just spoke against that story you told about your shoulder. A sixth let me in on it."
G was interested. "And what tale did you hear this time?" he asked.
"Your name is Vivalene," Vincent said, looking back to the woman. "You tried to kill one child and take another one captive. Then you tried to kill Azazel Rakesh and his ally Dalton. Rakesh shot you when you were trying to escape."
She gave him a mock-wounded look. "So many people are saying cruel things about me," she said.
"You still deny it?" Vincent's voice was steel.
She shrugged. "Well . . . I was thinking of it," she said, "but since so many people are in agreement . . . think fast!" Without warning she produced a small oval-shaped object from her handbag and threw it at the two men. They leaped back as it hit the floor. Pinkish-lavender smoke began to fill the room.
"It's been so much fun, darlings, but I believe our little excursion is over!" she called, vanishing into the fog.
Vincent coughed, covering his nose and mouth. "She's heading for the door," he said through his hand. "Come on."
"On the contrary, she might be planning to climb down the fire escape," G said.
"With one hand?" Vincent felt his way along the wall. Here was the door, and it was closed. He threw it open, letting in the fresh air from the hall. And the corridors were empty. The woman was nothing short of daring. Maybe the strange man was right.
He turned, making his way back into the room. The smoke was beginning to disperse, allowing him to see G heading for a room in the suite that was likely the woman's bedroom. Keeping his gun ready, Vincent followed.
G was standing on the balcony by the time Vincent arrived a moment later. A deep frown graced G's features as he stared into the winter's night. Several snowflakes were at last descending from the overcast sky, landing and sticking on the metal stairs leading to the ground from the balcony. Old snow was still on most of the steps as well, and it was untouched. No one had come up or down by that route.
The auburn-haired man turned to face the annoyed ex-Turk. "She isn't here," he said.
"She wasn't in the hall, either," Vincent grunted.
"Hmm. What does that leave?" G mused. He leaned over the front of the balcony. It was far too high for anyone to jump. And anyway, the snow several stories below also looked undisturbed.
Vincent walked out onto the balcony as well. He looked upward. But that also seemed ridiculous. She had definitely been shot. How much climbing could she do with one arm, even if she happened to be very skilled at it?
"Unless she flew away, she's done a very good job of vanishing into thin air," G said, following Vincent's gaze.
"You're calm about it," Vincent commented, going back into the bedroom. What if she had fooled them by hiding somewhere in the suite? Then, when both of them were outside, she could have escaped out the front door. It was a cheap trick. He should have thought of that possibility before running onto the balcony with G.
How did he even know yet if he could trust G? What if he had been in on the plan and he had deliberately gone to the balcony to assist in her ploy?
A swift glance around the room revealed nothing out of place--at least nothing that would help them find any clues. A sheer negligeé had been tossed across the bed, and a comb and brush had been left on the nightstand, but other than that there were not even any signs that the room had been occupied. In irritation he opened the drawers, routing through the clothes. Still nothing. And she had brought so many things, she had obviously planned to stay for a long time. What would she do without access to all of these clothes? Maybe she would just buy more.
He crossed the room and entered the bathroom. The glass shower door was open, revealing the empty space. A bit of lipstick had been left on the sink's counter, but that was hardly a helpful clue--unless it was some fancy brand only available at a certain place. And with the world of online shopping, that did not seem likely. In any case, the actual tubes were unavailable. They were likely somewhere in her bottomless handbag that seemed to hold everything she might need at any given moment.
"I have an idea," G announced as he came and stood in the doorway. "Let's go downstairs and see if we can learn whether Vivalene has any unclaimed mail."
Vincent grunted. "The desk clerk isn't supposed to give out that kind of information," he retorted.
"On the contrary," G smirked, "if it's one clerk in particular, I'm sure he will assist us." There was a bit of bitterness in his smirk as he walked past. "In fact," he called back, "by the time you get downstairs, I'll probably already have the answer."
Vincent narrowed his eyes, hurrying after G. He was in a big hurry to get away. Could the reason be because he thought the clerk might greet him by his real name? He would not want Vincent to overhear that.
There was no sign of G when Vincent re-entered the living room. But instead of bothering to look for him, Vincent walked out the front door and into the hall. G was still not around. He might be taking the stairs. Vincent turned, heading for the elevator.
Apparently the clerk had stepped away for a short break. When Vincent reached the ground floor, no one was at the desk. And G had the gall to have gone around to the other side of the desk, looking at the room number for each mail cubby before finding the correct one.
"Ah, she does have mail," G announced, still with his back to Vincent. Either he was completely stupid or he was completely aware of Vincent's presence.
"Is it anything useful?" Vincent asked.
G walked back around the desk, looking at a lone, long white envelope. "It looks like junk mail," he frowned. "It's from some sweepstakes. Everyone knows those are rigged."
"Or non-existent to begin with." Vincent studied the return address. Something clicked in his mind. "Let me see that," he said.
"You are seeing it," G replied, but handed it to him.
"'Diamond Rose Lodge,'" Vincent read. That was like the strange piece of paper Linda had dropped that said "The diamond rose glass will have to wait." It would be too odd if this address was a coincidence. He needed to get it to Cloud immediately.
"Does that mean anything to you?" G frowned, folding his arms across his chest.
"It might. I'm going to show it to my 'client.'" Vincent grabbed G's upper arm. "And you're coming with me," he added, his voice not leaving room for arguments.