Chapter 3
Natasha Alexandra Mikkosovana Cassidine darted down the narrow hallway, pushing past lingering guests and servants who were cleaning up after Papov's latest party for Kristen Bergman, Europe's famed opera singer and her mother.
The last few hours, Natasha had imagined herself onstage, attired in pretty gowns and singing to a large audience. Closing her eyes, she could hear the loud clapping and smell the roses that were tossed on the stage. She was so wrapped in her daydream, that she didn't see the large blur that flew past her, bumping into the decorative floral arrangement in front of her and causing the large vase to crash toward the floor, breaking into a million pieces. Natasha stopped, clutching a small book within her hands, her mouth agape, as she heard an outraged cry behind her.
"Tasha!" one of the servants, Ellinida, exclaimed, a stern look upon her face, as she ushered the small child toward the garden doors, pushing her out among the flowers, "Always trouble finds you."
Natasha heard a snicker within the Irises, a small figure with dark hair hiding within the leaves.
"Sorry, Miss Ellie," Natasha answered, curtsying, as she turned toward the garden, frowning.
Ellinida stood, one hand upon her hip, a scathing remark upon her lips, as Natasha disappeared into the garden. Shaking her head, she glanced back at the broken vase, her mind steered to the task at hand.
"Nikos!" Natasha whispered, using one hand to push the large fronds aside, searching for the small boy.
"AH HA," Nikos shouted, a small, dark-haired lanky lad, jumping out from behind her, scaring her spitless and causing her book to fall to the ground.
She stood with her hands folded across her chest, her eyes alit with fire, her foot tapping the crushed stone.
"Oh, come on! Tasha-"
"You did that on purpose, Nikos," Natasha accused, plucking a flower near her and glaring at its purple perfumed petals.
Trouble. Nikos Aleksai Gianakos was the son of her father's closest confidante, here visiting for the summer. He was a barefaced, impertinent enfant. An angel to the servant's face and a devil child when their backs turned. He was the only child near her age on the island. Well, the only one allowed to play with her.
"Did not," Nikos answered, adamantly, picking up the book on the stone pathway and looking down at its title.
"Anna Karenina?" Nikos read, an inquisitive expression upon his face, "It's in Russian. You don't-"
"Do too," Natasha repeated, fibbing. So, she only knew a few words here or there, Nikos didn't need to know that. Besides, Papov seemed genuinely pleased when he saw the book earlier, directing her to his side.
"What is this, Tasha? It is a big book for such a small madchen," he had told her, a slight smile hidden beneath the dark beard that covered his face.
"Yes, Papov," Natasha whispered, clutching his hand, as she spied Madame Cassidine a few feet away.
Natasha could still feel the gentle touch of her Papov's hand, as he mussed the hair atop her head, grinning back at her, as he pressed the book within her small hands, "Dream big, my Tasha. And the world will bow at your feet."
"No matter whether you can read it, or not, Tasha, it won't make you one of them." Nikos told her, interrupting Natasha's fond memories of earlier, "I heard Mrs. Cassidine say so herself."
Natasha snatched the book from his grasp, turned her back on Nikos, as tears streamed down her face and ran further into the garden. She would read it. She'd dream big, as Papov told her. Then, Madame Cassidine would bow at her feet. Racing deeper into the gardens surrounding her, Natasha went in search of the one woman who would understand. Her mother.
A few feet ahead, she slowed her determined stride, hearing voices. Two. Both female.
"Mother," she whispered, smiling as she spotted a woman adorned in satin and wearing a ruby necklace around her throat.
She stood in the shadows, watching from a safe distance, as her mother argued with Papov's wife. Their voices rose with every word spoken, the tension in the air spiking. The gems around her mother's neck sparkled under the light of the moon, Madame Cassidine's eyes burning brighter with each glance upon them. "Stay far away from my husband, Miss Bergman." Madame Cassidine had ordered, as Natasha watched, frightened. Her mother laughed, turning and spying Natasha, before muttering something under her breath that Natasha couldn't quite hear. It caused Madame Cassidine's face to turn hateful. With horror, Natasha saw Papov's wife tear the ruby stones from her mother's neck, watched as Madame Cassidine drew a dagger from within her skirts, slashing it across her mother's throat.
Silently, Natasha stood, the scene before her a nightmare. Her beautiful mother, hands outreached toward her, falling upon the ground, her silk gown now stained with blood. Natasha's fingers twitched upon her book's spine, tears streaming down her face, her breathing heavy, as her chest rose and fell rapidly. She watched the light leave her mother's eyes, her body immobile upon the stone path.
Madame Cassidine stepped over her mother's body, careful not to soil the hem of her skirt, as she reached down and picked up the jeweled necklace, laying in a pool of its owner's blood.
Natasha gasped, quickly using her hand to stifle her breath and shaking, as Madame Cassidine paused, clutching the gems within her hand.
"Little Natasha," Madame Cassidine whispered, pointing the dagger at her, the blood of her mother covering Papov's wife's hands, "Do you see what happens if you cross me?"
Alexis Davis awoke with a start, her body shaking and covered in sweat. The nightmare hadn't appeared to her since she was a small child, its images scratched into her mind as if the events happened yesterday. Sitting up in her bed, she stripped the sodden lingerie from her body and walked nude toward a photograph of her and both her girls on the wall. Using her fingers to find the small button in the frame's side, she pushed, unlocking the spring and revealing a large safe behind. She entered the secret code and heard the click of the lock, turning the handle and opening the safe. Inside, nestled upon a velvet bag, lay a necklace of rubies. The other half to the necklace Helena had ripped from her mother's neck all those years ago. Brushing her fingers upon the stones, Alexis felt the tears upon her cheeks, the memories flooding her thoughts. Wiping her eyes, she glanced one last time at the stones, closed the safe and turned the handle, locking it. She headed toward the bathroom, her body seeking the comfort of a hot shower. She turned the nozzle to the desired temperature, the steam rising from the confined space, as she climbed in beneath the stream of water.
Running her hands through her dark hair, Alexis closed her eyes, terrified as to why the nightmare had returned.
"Explain to me what we are doing here again?" Lulu asked, a puzzled expression on her face, as Spinelli crouched before the massive entrance, a simple rake in one hand and a tension wrench in the other, attempting to manipulate the mechanism and disengage the lock.
"The Inquisitive One is in dire need of our assistance," Spinelli reminded Lulu, as he squinted at the keyhole, his hand twisting and turning, as he worked the lock.
"Molly? I still don't understand why we're here. Nicholas isn't-"
"Do not fret, Original Blonde One, The Dark Prince's locks are no match for the Jackal," he told her, his eyes once again examining the lock, his tongue peeking out from between his lips.
"Dark Prince? Really, Spinelli? Here, try this," Lulu interrupted him, pulling her keys from her purse and handing the key to Wyndemere to Spinelli.
"How did you-" Spinelli replied, rising to his feet.
"Never mind," he told her, grinning, as he unlocked the door, "We're in."
Lulu followed Spinelli into the foyer, her footsteps marking his as he led her toward the study. "What exactly are we looking for, Spinelli?" she asked him, as she glanced at the volumes on the bookcase, her eyes settling upon a book about Wyndemere's haunted past, "Ghosts?" she suggested, grinning.
"The Spiritual Ones are no laughing matter," Spinelli told her, serious. He opened the bag he had brought with him, pulling several volumes off of the shelf and placing them within.
"Did you know that water acts as a conductor for drawing energy and aiding in their manifestation?"
"You don't say," Lulu remarked, completely bored, shaking her head, as she continued perusing the books upon the shelf.
Spinelli turned toward Lulu, as he continued in his teachings, while searching through the volumes, "It is said that they leave a psychic impression behind. An imprint on the house or grounds. And that's just the Residual Ones. Now, the Intelligent Ones-"
"Psychic imprints? You've been watching too many movies, Spinelli," Lulu replied, interrupting.
"The Original Blonde One does not believe in ghosts?" Spinelli remarked, truly stunned, as his eyes locked on a large volume, that appeared to be as Molly Lansing described earlier.
"I believe in what I can see, Spinelli," Lulu answered, her eyes scanning the room and her body taking on the shivers, "But, then again the Cassidines are all certifiable. So-"
"Ah, it is as I suspected."
"What? Did you find something?" Lulu inquired, suddenly intrigued, moving along side of Spinelli.
"Leaves of Grass, 1st Edition," Spinelli exclaimed, caressing the binding, "I always pegged the Dark Prince for Edgar Allen Poe, or Machiavelli."
"How is any of this helping Molly, Spinelli?" Lulu asked, irritated, with one hand on her hip.
Spinelli caught sight of an old dusty volume in Russian, its print barely legible.
Iskusstvo Rasrusheniya by Viktor Cassidine.
"The Art of Destruction by Viktor Cassidine," Spinelli said aloud, taking the volume from the shelf.
"I didn't know you spoke Russian?"
"Russian? No. The Inquisitive One spoke about this one. We will take it with us," Spinelli informed Lulu, dropping it too into the bag, "We must hurry."
"Expecting someone?" Lulu asked Spinelli, looking around the dark study.
"I'd like the answer to that," the man at the door interjected, leaning against the study entry, "Do you two make it a habit of breaking into castles?"
"Breaking and entering? No," Spinelli answered, gathering the heavy bag at his side and moving toward Lulu.
"I have a key," Lulu noted, the voice familiar, suddenly recalling the man before her, "Dr. Keenan?"
"Mrs. Falconeri, was it?" he added, stepping further into the study, "Did you leave something behind from the party?"
"What? No. Why are you in my brother's house?"
"No worries, I'll protect you, Original Blonde One," Spinelli stated, moving in front of Lulu.
"Original Blonde One?" Dr. Keenan inquired, turning toward Spinelli.
"Your powers will not work on me, Psychiatric One," Spinelli answered, reaching for one of the books and wielding it before him.
"Psychiatric?" Dr. Keenan replied, his tone changing to one of concern.
"Why are you here?" Lulu asked again, puzzled as to Dr. Keenan's presence in Nicholas' house.
"Alexis Davis is allowing me to rent it," Dr. Keenan informed them, turning from his study of the pock-marked young man toward the much more enjoyable visage of Mrs. Lulu Falconeri, who had reached for her cell phone and placed it against her ear. She walked toward the far corner waiting for the person on the other end to answer.
"Do not fall for his lies, Original Blonde One," Spinelli said, raising his voice, "Maxinista informed me of her encounter with him in the catacombs. We must leave now," Spinelli told Lulu, his sights set on Dr. Keenan, "The Inquisitive One is in need of our assistance."
"I'm going to give you my card, Mr?"
"Spinelli. But, you can call me, The Jackal," Spinelli replied.
"Jackal?"
"As in Jackal, P.I. One half of Jackal and McCall."
Dr. Keenan reached inside his shirt, as Lulu walked back over.
"He's got a gun," Spinelli yelled, pushing Lulu behind him.
"Spinelli!" Lulu shouted, putting away her phone and glancing toward Dr. Keenan, "I spoke with Alexis. I'm sorry that we disturbed you," Lulu told Dr. Keenan, sending a scathing look toward Spinelli, "We're leaving now."
"Now?"
"Yes, now, Spinelli," Lulu repeated, pushing Spinelli toward the door.
"Mr. Spinelli, my card," Dr. Keenan said, handing it toward him, "My office opens at 8am. I can clear my calendar," Dr. Keenan continued, as Lulu followed Spinelli out the door, closing it behind her.
"I do not trust him," Spinelli told Lulu, as they walked toward the dock.
"And it has nothing to do with the fact that Maxie was alone with him?" Lulu asked, a grin upon her face, "Relax, Spinelli. Alexis said he's harmless. He just needed a place to stay."
"Why not the MetroCourt? He has shifty eyes. He was in the catacombs with my Non-Wife," Spinelli carried on, as Lulu stepped into the boat.
"Spinelli, the case. Remember?" Lulu reminded, trying to change the subject, "We're not actually going to read all of those books, are we?"
"We need to arrange a meeting with The Inquisitive One," Spinelli answered, now focused on the task at hand.
"Mom, are you all right?" Sam McCall asked, while they examined the onesies at the newest baby boutique.
"I'm fine. Don't I look fine?" Alexis Davis answered picking up a pink set, one hand rubbing the perspiration from her throat and chest.
"You look a little flushed," Sam replied, concerned.
"Dammit!" Alexis shouted, tossing the onesie atop the shelf, turning heads, "I need a cold shower. What?" Alexis yelled to a couple two racks over, "Take a picture, it'll last longer."
"O.K. We're going," Sam informed her mother, walking toward the cashier and tossing the few items she had found upon the counter.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," Alexis shared, tugging on her blouse, airing the skin beneath, "Is it hot in here?"
"That'll be $195.50."
"Two hundred dollars?" Alexis exclaimed, raising her voice, as she looked down at the three small pink outfits. One skirted, flowery onesie, a two-piece onesie set with hearts and one with pink giraffes and elephants.
"Mom, stop," Sam told Alexis, handing the cashier her credit card.
"You know I know Lulu," Alexis informed the cashier, as she glanced at the store's name, BabyLulu, "Not your Lulu, but she used to work for Crimson and she wouldn't-"
"Thank you. We'll just go," Sam told the cashier, grabbing the bag and directing Alexis toward the store's front entrance.
"I just don't know what to do," Alexis cried, breaking down in front of the store, "my emotions are all over the place. I was at Jake's last night and I broke down because Coleman wouldn't give me ice."
"I know. It's all right, Mom," Sam reassured her, steering her mother toward the local ice cream shop, "You know what you need?"
"What?" Alexis answered, wiping the tears from her eyes with her sleeve.
"A double scoop of Cappuccino ice cream," Sam told her mother, pausing to pull her cell phone from her purse, "Hey, Spinelli. What's up? Wait. Molly? I'll be right there."
"What's wrong with Molly? Is she hurt?" Alexis asked, a frantic expression on her face.
"No. Mom, Molly is fine. Spinelli...gave her a book. She left it at the party."
"At Wyndemere? But, Spinelli wasn't there," Alexis replied, confused.
"Look, you should go see Coleman? Play some pool," Sam suggested, reluctantly passing by the ice cream shop and sighing as they continued on. So much for her chocolate craving.
"I could call Diane," Alexis told Sam, walking along side her daughter, "but not Mac."
"Fine. No Mac."
Sam dropped her mother off at Jake's, said her hello to Coleman and called Spinelli back on his cell phone.
"I'm on my way. What is going on Spinelli? No, wait. Don't tell me until I get there," she instructed, stopping as a couple walked by with ice cream.
"Pick me up some ice cream. Chocolate, of course."