This chapter is extremely Henri and Abbie heavy. The story is coming to a close, only one chapter left. Thank you for continuing to read.

Chapter 12

"Are you sure these are the correct directions," Ichabod asked as he tapped on the GPS.

Henri had invited the pair to his home for an evening of good food and crime solving. Dinner was planned for 5pm and Abbie had thought it was best to leave her house early. The address Henri gave them was obscure and out of the way. After driving for almost 45 minutes, most of that time spent being lost, they finally arrived. Henri lived on the outskirts of Port Chester in a secluded area. Abbie drove up the long private driveway that was closely bordered by woods on both sides.

"Yes I'm sure Crane," Abbie said as she pointed to a small wooden sign. "It says 'DuPont', he told us about the sign leading up to his house. I'm sure it's just around the corner."

Abbie arrived in the driveway of a multistory, gray and blue Victorian. To Abbie this home seemed unusual and slightly out of character for Henri. She expected a condo in Manhattan or a downtown loft, but not a home that seemed so traditional. In the driveway was a fountain of a crying angel, which was a little creepy. As Abbie parked the car a man dressed in a butler's uniform approached.

"Good evening Ms. Mills," the man said as he opened the car door. "Master DuPont has been awaiting your arrival. Please follow me."

The butler led them up the stairs and into the large house. "Henri has a butler, I'm not surprised. He must think of himself as an aristocrat. How pathetic," Ichabod scoffed.

"Stop being jealous. I love this house, it's beautiful," Abbie said as she admired the interior. Along the walls hung portraits of Henri and his sister throughout the centuries. Abbie inspected an old photo more closely.

"This is one of my favorites," Henri said as he appeared behind Abbie. "I must say, the Edwardian era was one my favorites in terms of fashion. I'm glad to see that you've both made it."

"Excuse of lack of formalities, but what time is dinner," Ichabod said flatly.

Henri turned to Ichabod and laughed. "Nice to see you too Ichabod! I see that you're still wearing your usual old rags. How unfortunate."

The butler stepped in between the men in an attempt to prevent a fight. "Gentlemen, my lady, dinner is served in the main dining hall."

The trio walked through the large home, down a spiral staircase, and entered the dining room. A dark wooden table was set with crystal glasses and expensive china. Abbie looked down at her clothes and wondered if she was dressed appropriately for the occasion. So far Henri hadn't commented on her crème colored cocktail dress and 5-inch heels.

"Your home, it looks so normal. Don't get me wrong, it's beautiful," Abbie said as she was seated at the table.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you. I bet you were expecting a coffin in the living room and cobwebs. This is my favorite home, it's my main home," Henri said proudly.

As soon as they were seated the food was placed on the table. One course after the next, the food and wine never stopped. Ichabod tossed back multiple glasses of wine in a row. "Before I become too intoxicated, we must discuss the investigation," Ichabod said.

"You're right, business before pleasure. George, please bring out the box," Henri instructed and George followed.

Abbie looked at the butler and was relieved to finally know his name. Something felt wrong about having a nameless person serving them all night. "So what's the deal with your butler? He doesn't say much."

"He's a servant, he's not supposed to say much. I don't pay him for his conversation. George comes with me wherever I go," Henri replied.

"Is he human," Ichabod asked boldly.

"No, and he hasn't been for long time. He's actually the very first vampire I made. When I found him he was dying of typhus in a debtor's prison in London. He had nothing. He was filthy, illiterate, and hopeless. I gave him a choice and he chose correctly," Henri explained.

The conversation stopped as the discreet butler reentered the room. George placed the large box on the table and quickly exited. Henri removed several books and files and placed them around the table. The most important of the files was the county death records, which Abbie inspected. "What exactly am I looking at," she asked.

"There are three names on that list, all of whom lived in the boarding house at the times of their deaths," Henri said.

Ichabod moved closer to Abbie and looked at the names. "Henri, all of the people have a cause of death and burial place listed. Except for one, Elizabeth Jackman."

"Correct! I knew Elizabeth and she supposedly died of tuberculosis, but her body was ever found. At the time, all people infected with TB had to register with the county health department. There should be a record of her death and place of burial, but there isn't," Henri stated.

"So you think Elizabeth was murdered," Abbie asked.

"I don't know for sure. I do remember coming home late one evening to take a bath. When I entered the bathroom the tub was full and the floor was covered with water. At the time I didn't think about it, but I realize I never saw Elizabeth again. She was a nice girl, but had an enemy. She was scared of Mrs. Gwyn Sythe, a widow who was jealous of her. Mrs. Sythe saw Elizabeth as competition for her daughters. There was a rumor that a man who Mrs. Sythe wanted for her daughter, was in love with Elizabeth," Henri explained.

"My only question is what happened to Elizabeth's body? I highly doubt that Mrs. Sythe was strong enough to move and bury the body without assistance," Ichabod said as he poured another glass.

"Archibald was known for taking good care of his tenants. Sometimes he even cleaned up their messes. He was very fond of Mrs. Sythe and I don't think he'd hesitate to help her. The poor man even helped me bury a body on a few occasions. He never asked questions," Henri clarified.

"Do we know what happened to Mrs. Sythe," Abbie asked.

"No. But we do know how Archibald died, which makes Elizabeth our killer," Henri shouted.

Ichabod raised an eyebrow. "Why now? Why are these drownings occurring after so many decades?"

Henri tossed a blue folder in Ichabod's direction. "Take a look at the city construction permits. A construction company is building a Starbucks on Manthey Road. They broke ground the same day the students were murdered. Elizabeth's resting place has been disturbed, and she's pissed."

"How do we stop this vengeful spirit," Ichabod asked.

"You're a ball of energy aren't you Ichabod? After all the information I put out, you want more answers? I need a break. My brain is exhausted and frankly all this talk of ghosts and murder is making me a little nauseous. How about we take a tour and then come back for dessert? We can create a plan over tiramisu," Henri said smugly.

"Whatever Henri. Crane lets hurry and go on his little tour so we can get back to business," Abbie snapped.

Ichabod rose from his chair only to find himself wobbly and slightly disoriented. "Perhaps I've indulged in one too many lavations. It may be better for me to sit for a while and regain my bearings."

"George," Henri shouted. "Please take Mr. Crane to the parlor and pour him a tonic. And for the love of god, make sure he doesn't vomit on the Persian carpet."

The tour was lasting longer than Abbie had expected, or felt comfortable with. Together they'd explored the secret passageways that Henri had built. She learned the history of every painting that hung from his walls. Part of her enjoyed the tour, it was like walking through a living museum. The last place they explored was Henri's private residence. The entire third floor was his personal wing. "Don't you get lonely here? You have so much space, it's overwhelming," Abbie said.

"I don't stay in one place long enough to get lonely. But when I do get bored I write music," Henri said. He walked to a chest in the corner of his room and retrieved a mahogany violin. "I play quiet well. I wrote a song for you Abbie. Would you like to hear it?"

Abbie was taken aback by this request. Her heart fluttered and she desperately tried to get her mouth to form words. "Well this is a first. Yes, I would like to hear it."

Henri began playing the most beautiful song. Abbie could hear the pain and longing in each note. Secretly she wondered if there were lyrics that accompanied the song. As soon as it began the song was over, leaving Abbie satisfied. "That was beautiful Henri."

"Thank you. I rarely get a chance to play for anyone, especially not someone I care about." Henri returned his violin to the chest and placed his hands on Abbie's shoulders. "Abbie, these past few months have been amazing. Just knowing that you exist has made me happier than I've been in a long time."

Feeling unsure, Abbie stepped away from Henri. "I know we've had our issues, but you're a great guy. At the same time, there's nothing for us Henri. Not matter how hard we try, it would never work out."

Suddenly, Abbie found herself locked in a tight embrace with Henri's lips pressed firmly against hers. He didn't taste like anything, not salt, nothing. Abbie didn't want the kiss to stop, but she knew it had to. "Henri we can't. I can't let this happen."

A very frustrated Henri walked to the other side of the room. "Why not Abbie? I want to be with you, can't you see that?"

"Henri, you and I are a million miles and a world apart. After all this apocalypse crap is over I want a normal life. I want kids, a husband, and a house with a small garden. With you I can't have that!"

Tears began to flow from Henri's eyes. "Then why not become like me? I can turn you, tonight! Once we're the same we can be together. Think about it Abbie, eternal life. You'll never grow old, you'll never be sick or weak."

"What part of normal don't you understand? There is nothing normal about being a vampire Henri. There's nothing normal about being undead! I look forward to growing old and dying like people are supposed to do. I deserve a normal life, I think I've earned it. Please Henri, I don't want to hurt you," Abbie pleaded.

Henri began to pace in circles. "You could never hurt me Abigail. It's my fault for being so careless and naïve. Maybe I've been watching too many Twilight films and I thought we could be together. I was wrong. After we solve this case I'm leaving. I won't torment you will my presence any longer. "

"Where will you go," Abbie asked sweetly.

"I don't know really. I have a friend in Tokyo that I haven't seen since the '60s. Or I might look for my sister, I heard she was spotted in Brussels. It doesn't matter where I go, but I won't stay here," Henri said.

"I don't want to lose you Henri. Please don't run away from me. We can still be friends," Abbie begged.

Henri turned and began walking out of the room. "You won't lose me, I'm always and forever yours," he paused, "Let's get back before Ichabod starts thinking I ate you."

Henri and Abbie silently returned to the dining room. Ichabod was back in his seat, looking much better than he did during dinner. "Ah, so two finally found your way back. I almost ate the tiramisu without you."

"It's a large house Ichabod, the tour took more time than expected. Well let's get down to business. How are we going to stop Elizabeth," Henri said.

"I remember John Adams discussing ghost banishing techniques with me. There was a ghost haunting our campsite during the war and I sought Mr. Adam's advice. I was instructed to find where the body was buried, circle the remains with salt, and say the banishing spell," Ichabod explained.

"Crane, are you sure about this," Abbie asked.

"Yes. We just need to lure her out of hiding. Perhaps having Henri around will draw her attention," Ichabod suggested.

"You're right, it will work. I have a map of where she might be buried. We can go to the construction site tomorrow night and end all of this. Then we can finally move on with our lives," Henri said as he looked at Abbie.

"Agreed, it's definitely time to move on. The construction site isn't too far from the station. Henri, I'll give you a call when the site clears out," Abbie said stoically.

"Well that's settled. Let's hope she doesn't kill anyone else before then," Henri said as he rose from the table. "Abbie, Ichabod, tonight was an extraordinary evening and I enjoyed your company very much. I have important things to do, and you both need you rest. George, please see them out."

Henri quickly disappeared into the darkness, leaving the witnesses alone with George. Ichabod couldn't forget the good food he'd eaten, while Abbie couldn't forget the argument she had with Henri. They both had their reservations about having dinner with a vampire, but they were glad they did.

"Ms. Mills, Mr. Crane, please allow me to see you out," George said.

Thank you for reading. Please leave comments and suggestions. I love reading them :)