Semper Fidelis
Chapter 7
My Mustang roared as I pulled it into the driveway of my family's house and turned off the engine. I was a little later than I had promised mom I would be but surprisingly not by too much that would not be written off as traffic. Of course by this time all my brothers and sisters had left for school and my mom was just coming out the door with Little Harry in tow. She looked up to see me and smiled, I mean really smiled, at seeing me here even if I could tell she did not approve of my general appearance. Of course being my mom that smile was quickly hidden away by a neutral scowl.
"You look…" She began but I held up my hand to cut her off before she finished whatever she was going to say.
"Please mom." I said. "Not right now. I am tired and don't want to argue with you about my wardrobe or my hair again."
"I was going to say 'tired' Molly but if you prefer to discuss you appearance instead…" She replied obviously undaunted by me. "Unfortunately though I have to drop your brother off at kindergarten and then get to the hospital to see your father. He called this morning and sounded more awake than usual so I want to get to him before he falls back to sleep."
"Okay I am going to catch a quick catnap until noon or so and then I will be over there to relieve you." I said nodding and thankful that this potential for another argument between us was not going to happen it seemed. After seeing the Faeries gearing up for war and the feeling the tension in the air because of it I had my current fill of conflict for the moment.
She noted this too as I rarely backed off from challenging her these days and my actions drew her up short making her suspect I was hiding something. "Molly is there something wrong?" She asked. "You are not involved in anything dangerous are you?" Since my powers had manifested, and especially the way this had taken place, me being involved in something dangerous, meaning magical, was my mother's constant guilt-ridden concern.
I wanted to ask her 'You mean beyond the fact that the Winter Court is about to attack the forces of Summer and plunge us into the next ice age mom?' However, I merely thought to myself instead of actually asking aloud. But my mother is no fool and knew there was something in my look and my exhaustion that said her firstborn was involved in something and by the divine rules of the eternal umbilical cord that meant it was something she felt she had a right to know about. And as I said being as tired as I was I really did not want to go toe to toe with her right now. I sighed in a show of actual exhaustion and gave her a quick answer.
"Harry's medical examiner friend called to see if Chicago's resident wizard could come by and explain the cause of death behind a corpse the city had recovered. I went in his place since Harry is out of town. The body ended up being nothing more than a bag of skin and bones." I said while almost but not quite looking my mom in the eyes. Not quite in order to prevent initiating an unwanted soulgaze but still close enough to show I was not trying to hide the details of what I was speaking of. Okay it was not all that happened last night for me, but it was not a lie either. "After seeing the body I went back to Harry's place and tried to research what could have killed him or her by looking through the reference books he has and see if I could find anything out for Harry's friend to close the case."
"You are not planning to go out monster hunting like your father and Mr. Dresden like to do are you dear?" She asked in a way that another mother might ask her daughter if she was hanging out with the wrong type of friends at school. The comparable absurdity of this question in its tone to the 'real world' my friends lived with made me laugh and almost react with a pithy response come back aimed at her.
Then I had the sobering thought of the dead yeti outside Harry's door and the level of killing force it would have taken to slaughter such a creature and I quickly sobered back up. "No mother." I said with complete honesty. "Whatever is responsible for the killing it is not something I have any desire or the power to cross paths with. I merely promised Harry's friend Butters that I would see if I could turn anything up in Harry's books and pass this issue along to Harry also when he came back. That is where my role ends."
I could feel it as she used her mom's inherent superpower ability to detect falsehood by her glare at me but I was too tired to be defiant and try to resist it. In the end this worked in my favor I guess as she accepted my story. "Alright dear, though I think it is only fair to say there are two wizards protecting Chicago now." She said surprising me with this unexpected compliment and giving me a kiss on the forehead while I was too stunned from her praise. "Go get some rest. I love you and will see you at the hospital at three or so."
I merely nodded as I was still in shock and headed for the front door until little Harry called to me. "Molly I have another picture for you." He said proudly waving a crayon colored in drawing pulled free from yet another of his coloring books that he now held out to me. That little smiling face of his is really too cute to resist so I found the energy to turn around, trod back to him, and take the latest of his artworks he made for me.
This one appeared to be from Snow White or Sleeping Beauty or one of the other princesses versus the dominating matron figures movies. The irony of that comparison to me and my mother struck a naughty chord in me. It took all of my will not to glance at my mom and made a suggestive jibe about life imitating art, even if the art in question was created by Walt Disney.
I did note however that unlike his earlier pictures this one had the evil queen with the white hair like mine and the young princess's curls were instead black. "Hey munchkin I thought I was the princess in your drawings. Why does she have the dark hair and the old evil one have my hair?" I said pointing to the picture with a smile.
"You are the princess Molly." He said smiling and gave me a big hug. I had to admit I really needed that feeling of unconditional love right then. As he squeezed be around the middle he continued in his squeaky voice. "You are my hero Molly. You will make it all better." He then let me go and climbed into his car seat in the van and mom buckled him in. I meanwhile turned to go to the house before either of them could see the tears now forming in my eyes from the little rug rat's comments.
I almost made it when mom's annoyingly cheerful voice called out to me. "Molly it could be that Little Harry sees your hair has grown out a little darker and realizes like we all do it is now making you look like some sort of weird human daisy hybrid." She smiled and backed out of the driveway rolling the automatic window in the van back up before I could ask her then just who she though Little Harry was casting as the evil queen in his artwork then. Oh well that was probably for the better.
I entered the house and then closed and locked the door behind me feeling somewhat comforted behind our family threshold that I knew was strengthened by all the love in the world…which was all held in one very good man's heart. I turned to head to my bedroom up two flights of stairs and accidentally out of the corner of my eye caught my image in the full length mirror. I noted, with no little annoyance I might add, that my mother was of course correct about the way my naturally blond hair was almost an inch of my roots right now. I certainly had to update my dye job immediately or end up with the nickname daisy around the house thanks to my mom. Well that was another of those tasks for this afternoon I guessed. Won't mom love it when I stroll in with bright green hair!
Hours later an incessant booming drew me back out of sleep and into semi consciousness and I rolled over, buried my head under a pillow, and hoped it would go away. But after a moment of silence it just began again, and if anything, grew even louder this time. One of my eyes opened and focused on the old clock that was operated by weights rather than electricity that dad had found in an antique shop on one of his recent travels, repaired, and placed in my room for me. Its Bavarian face informed me I had at least thirty more minutes to sleep but that annoying pounding I now recognized as someone at my family's front door told me that returning to sleep was likely not going to happen this morning. So I slipped on my pink fuzzy robe and matching slippers and stumbled my way downstairs.
"What?" I yelled through the door just as I grabbed the knob and yanked it open making no effort to hide that I had been asleep and whoever was pounding on the door had disturbed that. Had the intruder been a pair of hot male strippers sent by friends to shower me in chocolates and foot massages while they danced around in thongs, I might, just might, not kill them and whoever had sent them in a horrible manner. But it was neither an oiled Chip nor Dale at my door but was instead some middle aged pencil shaped looking fellow who wore wire glasses on the end of his nose and looked at my fuzzy robe and slippers with a raised eyebrow of disapproval.
"I am confirming that this is indeed the Michael Carpenter and family residence?" He asked even though our mailbox out by the street and a sign on our front door proudly proclaimed it to be. I guess reading was not enough and he needed a verbal confirmation.
"It is." I said not opening the door further and certainly not appearing the least bit interested in whatever he had to say or sell.
"I am from Brooks Brothers' collection agency and I have been sent here about a significant balance of payment required for recent medical bills for the aforementioned Mr. Michael Carpenter." He said looking at the form even though I could tell he had his little speech memorized from saying it over and over. I knew this because nobody uses the word aforementioned in a sentence that has not been previously prepared.
"Your insurance company immediately referred this issue to my own company with a note that their policy does not cover health–related issues caused by suspected or confirmed criminal activity." He said with obvious distaste and a look that dared me to deny this accusation. I assume he had been briefed on the extent and type of injuries my father had sustained and these were not something that just happened to everyday people. The insurance company did not care as long as it meant they could get away without paying for the results.
"That's my dad." I said realizing that there was no point in arguing with this guy since the deck was stacked against us.
"Very good." He nodded and handed me a crisp letter not in an envelope. "Our office number is on the top of the page." He pointed to it as if I would somehow overlook the red raised corporate logo; red being the color for conflict. "We will expect first installment from your family by the end of the week as proof of your ability to pay or we will be forced to seek alternate legal methods of collection." By which I knew he meant his collection agency would see us in court.
It was of course a perfect threat. When a family's resources are stretched too thin to pay medical bills the thought of adding legal fees to the mix is not particularly attractive to consider. If such payments are beyond their ability to pay court will become inevitable so they might as well get to it before the family declares bankruptcy.
Chicago's own organized crime boss Gentleman John Marcone would likely have sent someone who looked like his bodyguard Hendricks, six foot something in height, red buzz cut hair, three hundred pounds of muscle, and no neck, to ask for such a payment from those who played on the shady side of Chicago. In his own way, Mr. Pencilneck here with his casual reference to lawyers was equally as scary as to law abiding people in my family's situation Hendricks would be to those in the underworld.
Seeing that I was not going to put up any fuss and so without a further word Mr. Pencilneck turned and left me standing at the door with his letter to get into his car. I noted annoying that it was an upper scale Infinity Class car no less and therefore made my beautiful Mustang look cheap by comparison. He looked even more smug as he casually backed out of our driveway and onto the street out front.
I looked down at the bottom of the paper resting in my hands and noticed the amount due in one week line he had spoken of and that it had four zeroes in the number, and none of these were to the right of the decimal point! And then I noted it was not listed as the 'total due' only what was currently due up until a week or so ago and this made me less than happy. So much so I could feel the magic building up in me.
I blame my next actions on Mr. Pencilneck for his jovial final toot toot of his horn and superior looking wave at me as he started to drive off for what occurred next. The Infinity was maybe a hundred feet away when my hand came up seemingly of its own accord and pointed to the brilliant silver sheen of the car reflecting early winter sunlight and my mouth somehow spat the word 'Hexus' in his direction without me willing it. Well at least that is the story I am planning on sticking with if Harry ever finds out.
You know the old war movies where the enemy plane begins streaming smoke and then fades off camera? I can only say such a scene is even more satisfying when you get to see a fifty thousand dollar car do the same thing as it turns a corner and dies with a fulfilling 'bang' out of sight. Was I being petty in this action? Yeah maybe I was. But for the amount listed on the bill it was worth this small, personal satisfaction since the car was still likely under warranty anyway.
That moment of instant gratification faded quickly as I looked at the bill a second time. There was no way mom and dad had the money for this kind of expense, not with putting six kids through private school and now my dad not able to work for the foreseeable future. There is also no one of repute willing to provide a loan for this kind of money, not when my father's business is less than steady due to his divinely assigned second career. Luckily for me, I say that with just a hint of sarcasm, I have the funds in the form of diamonds to cover just such a situation and the connections, no sarcasm this time, to convert these to the cash I would need to pay the bill.
Well since I was already awake I guess now would be a good time to go ahead and start running these errands down. I realized at that point there seems to be some unwritten universal law that if I do something for Harry, such as check out bodies, solve a case, or visit with the Faire Courts, it impacts my ability to get a reasonable amount of sleep. I am pretty certain this is a major contributing factor to why wizards are often thought of as grumpy. I bet the Merlin is responsible for this.
Lucky for me that unlike in Harry's house, the hot water tank in my parent's was located in the basement and we had a shower dad had installed up on the third floor by my bedroom. This meant that as long as I stayed away from going into the bowels of the house, I could enjoy a hot shower on the upper levels since that only required plumbing and a faucet, two relatively old inventions so not subject to magical breakdown.
I cannot begin to explain how important that is compared to taking a cold shower over at Harry's place when I just woke up. Of course I was still denied modern essentials of female life such as blow driers and curling irons. I can only say that in learning this fact those protected grounding outlets in bathrooms are worth their weight in gold, and since then my hairstyles tended to be designed with these limitations in mind.
I have considered and even tried working up a magical variation of a curling iron and blow drier as a spell but two things have prevented my actual attempt at casting this on myself. First of all Harry has this repetitive statement about how magic is not the solution to every problem. That is okay for him because it's not like he even notices his own hair; I really should look into buying him a hat to go along with his leather duster.
Second though is that my first practice attempt at such a spell was tried out on one of my eight year old sister Hope's dolls. As a result it happens to be the one who used to be named Barbie but now Hope calls Baldy if that gives you any idea of how things worked out. I guess my hairstyling spell is not quite ready for primetime.
During my shower I remembered that I was supposed to meet Karrin for a workout today but that I would have to take a pass at this lesson based upon everything else I had to get done before relieving my mother. Thankfully dad also had found an old telephone for my bedroom so I quickly dialed her cell as I dried off to tell her I was not going to be able to make it today. I was not looking forward to this.
"Murphy." She answered on the third ring with her highly professional and slightly stressed voice that said she was focused on something important. Okay I would keep the call short I guess. All the better for me as far as I was concerned.
"Karrin it's me Molly." I said as an introduction before getting ready to try to get out of a lesson. Karrin took Aikido training very seriously and explained at the beginning of my apprenticeship if I did not have the discipline to attend it was better not to even start as she had no patience for lack of commitment. She was just as hard on romantic relationships too I bet.
"Hey kid glad you got my message." She said making me of course immediately wonder what message she was referring to? I could only assume she left word with Harry's answering machine and thought I was just now calling her back.
"Um…so what's up?" I asked with a natural confusion in my voice that was completely in character based upon these events.
"I have to call off our practice session for today." She said. "Some cop business is taking precedence. I'm sorry and know it is unprofessional but the mayor's office is putting a ton of pressure on the department for this one and they are in turn throwing everything they have at this case." She sounded less than thrilled like this was a waste of her time.
Wow, that sounded to me like the cops in Special Investigations were assigned to support an actual police investigation rather than working merely of the unexplained and 'spooky' cases that normally got dropped in their lap. It also would be a way for Karrin to show her worth to the department that had basically spent the last few years crushing her career slowly and methodically. Of course she would not see it that way because she was too much of a good cop to look for any personal advantage in solving a case. She did it because she had taken an oath to protect and serve the people of Chicago and that is exactly what she was going to do.
"I understand." I said happy to be off the hook myself by her cancelling our training first. "Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked letting my mouth shoot off before my brain warned me that this might be what Uriel was talking about and I may have just stepped into it. After my last innocent missing person case ended up as a sixty year battle against Nazis I was ready for anything and everything to go wrong.
"No kid it is a simple missing celebrity case." She said. "No signs of violence or anything out of the ordinary." Which in her cop lingo meant nothing 'spooky' that would turn it over to a Special Investigations case. That confirmed for me that Murphy was there merely in a supporting role much like the background extras on a movie set. Her job was to demonstrate that the city was taking action based on the number of uniforms and detectives tromping around the crime scene.
"Anyone I know?" I asked merely out of curiosity. I read the gossip rags just like everyone else.
"Jimmy Marteen." She replied. "His agent is making a statement to the press right now."
I recognized the name right off. Jimmy Marteen had becomes Chicago's number one son when he won four figure skating gold medals at last year's Olympics. He had been internationally ranked at the very bottom of the competitive pool and had only made in on the U.S. team because of a pulled hamstring injury to one of the other skaters which had allowed the alternate at the last minute a chance to live his dream of an Olympic performance. His first routine was not even going to be carried because it was due to be performed when the US faced Finland in ice hockey finals. Camera delays however had interrupted that event and left Jimmy as the only show in town at a million dollar a minute event televised event. If there was any example of a come from behind, way way behind, boy making the most out of an unexpected opportunity then Jimmy was most certainly it, or at least that is what his agent had convinced the American public to believe.
His performance had been flawless and better than any of his teammates had ever seen him perform before. Jimmy's life upon taking the first gold had become the center of Olympic stories and nearly a daily column in Chicago's newspapers for the rest of the competition. He acted more like a rock star than an Olympic athlete and attracted vast followings of late teenage girls who the press began to call the Marteen Snow Bunny Club at every one of the remaining events he was supposed to skate at. One Olympic report said this was even scientifically proven since the cheers made after one of his performances were demonstrated to be nearly an entire octave higher in pitch than for any other skater's. Some said it was enough to make dogs how for mercy or to get their owners to change channels.
When he returned to Chicago wearing his four gold medals the city had a 'Welcome Home Jimmy' day party where the mayor gave him the key to the city and Jimmy in turn told the people that he could not have done it without the city's support and that of its wonderful mayor. Polls taken after that event showed a dramatic eleven point increase in the mayor's popularity that he rode successfully into a reelection three weeks ago. So yeah I guess I could understand why this was important to the mayor.
"Wow." I said. "Anything I can do to help? You want a tracking spell?" I asked.
"No thanks kid." Murphy replied. "There is no sign of violence and even though the lead detective on the case is saying all the right things to the press we are pretty certain he is off with half a dozen of his snow bunnies enjoying the fruits of his victory."
That probably grated on Murphy all the more. It's bad enough for a cop like her to have to put aside real police work for show and tell, but to know it's because someone was shacked up making like a rabbit, when you cannot be yourself, was just grating. "Okay Murph but give me a yell at Harry's or my parent's place if you change your mind." I said since the offer would buy me future goodwill on the sparring mat, or at least I had hopes that Karrin would see things that way.
"Okay kid." She replied and hung up.
I got dressed again in jeans and a sweater, fastened the Winter Court icicle pin to the material as I looked in the mirror again. "Yeah I really do need to get to the hairdresser today." I said not at all pleased with my current color and style.
I threw my heavy coat over the top, made sure I had my shield bracelet and other jewelry, took one of my four bags of diamonds out from where I'd stashed them, and headed out to the car. I knew it was just about one o'clock so I had two hours to try and change these out and get my hair done before I had to be at the hospital. Unfortunately, the Rothstein Jewelers shop was nowhere near my regular hair salon so odds were I was not going to make it to both unless I wanted to be late for my mom which was not my first choice. Note to the readers, based upon my personal experiences, never be late for Charity Carpenter.
My hope against hope was that traffic would be light and I could make it downtown and back to the salon with enough time to spare. Of course fate had other plans and about two blocks from where the jeweler's store was located in Chicago's financial district, traffic came to a stop, not something uncommon in the busiest part of the city on a workday. I weighed my options and chose a parking spot in a strip mall beside me and decided to hoof it over the last two blocks rather than fight the traffic and still have to find parking.
Yeah, remember how I told you Chicago is known as the windy city, especially in the winter months? Yeah I wish I had reminded myself of that after I turned and began jogging into wind on the next block. I was jogging because Harry said this was a skill wizards should definitely acquire and one he relied upon all the time for climbing stairs instead of using elevators. I reminded him that I'd seen him use it also with some rather terrible things chasing him and he admitted it was quite useful in those types of situations as well.
The fortunate happenstance to my choice to walk though was I found a hair styling place called 'The Rave' that was part of a new outlet chain that catered to folks of my generation, meaning young people who still wanted to look good. Since it was freezing and I was a little winded when it came into sight still a block from my destination I took a moment to step inside and see what kind of wait would be involved.
The place had four working stylists with clients in their chairs and an equal number of people waiting in line. I talked to the girl working the front desk who seemed annoyed I had pulled her from reading People Magazine to check on any open appointments on the schedule. She said they might be able to work in if I could be her in a half hour or so in a tone that said she was doing me a much bigger favor than a mere customer had the right to expect. But hey, beggars with golden roots can't be choosers so I took the appointment and then headed back out into the cold and in a few minutes made it to my destination.
Rothstein Jewelers was not one of those type of glitz and glamour jewelry stores they have in most malls that overprice mass produced pieces of jewelry. Comparing Rothstein to that is like comparing a five star restaurant to McDonalds. Instead Rothstein Jewelers was a store that catered to those seeking the discriminating, hand-crafted, and high end pieces sought by true collectors.
In Chicago the store got first right of refusal for all the quality stones from the world's diamond and gem markets. It was rumored that if they had a large order, the Rothsteins in the past had literally cause fluctuations on the gold market. And finally, their pieces were described often as descendents from the Faberge line of jewelry that was indeed more akin to art that to attire. Their personal motto was that 'No woman ever said no' to a proposal when accompanied by an engagement ring made by Rothstein Jewelers. Of that I had no doubt.
They were also a shop that operated strictly by appointment with their customers, one deal at a time, rather than having two or more cross paths and fight over works or seem to challenge each other's tastes. On a busy day such as before Christmas or Valentine's Day the store saw three to four customers. On the average day it was only one. It therefore must say something about their reputation and products that Rothstein Jewelers were not only still in business but that the store had worldwide acclaim and a waiting list to boot. Some international travelers booked their business meetings in Chicago around their jewelry appointment.
I walked casually up to the twin security guards, former Navy SEALs, who stood outside the brick faced building. There were no windows to see into the store and the last time I was here the Rothsteins, who had more or less adopted me, explained that the seeming red brick wall on the outside and cinder blocks on the inside also hid two inches of steel plate between these layers. This would come at a terrible surprise to any robbers who thought to try and ram a car through the wall or used a stick or two of dynamite to gain access and find that they had failed.
The guards said nothing to me as I approached. Those who came here were told the proper routine. "I am Molly Carpenter here to see Mister or Misses Rothstein please." I said pulling forth the gold on black Rothstein Jewelers business card the family had given me at my first and only visit to the store. Thankfully the Rothsteins went for traditional style rather than modern high tech security. Had the card carried a magnetic strip on the back I would likely have shorted it out just carrying it around. Instead it had a number that the guard on the left called in and then described me to someone else on the other end of the line.
He received some response from the inside and then turned to look at me. "Who is Nerthus?" He asked as my security question. I smiled thinking of how the Rothstein family had come up with that one for me.
""A German Pagan goddess." I said without hesitation and watched him repeat the answer into the phone. He nodded and hung the phone up and ten seconds later the door opened remotely. Both guards immediately drew their guns and watched for anyone who might try to rush the facility. With the exception of a few things in the paranormal world that could perhaps get past it, this might just be the perfect security system.
Like Harry's place, Rothstein Jewelers had a steel door, but instead of having to open it manually it operated by electron command. I took an extra step back to make sure my presence did not short it out partway open. Once it came to a rest and the guards handed me my card back a walked rapidly through the door to make sure I did not screw anything up. Once through the door began to settle back into its closed position.
While the outside of the building may seem a fortress, and in truth it really was, the inside was a monument to creature comforts and the finer things in life. Instead of the standard glass counters with various wares displayed the room was instead a grand sitting room with comfortable padded chairs and loveseats arranged around an antique table. In the corner stood an equally old yet refurbished piano, supposedly one used by Mozart himself, at which a store employee played soft music in the background. I recognized the piece as the opening stanza of Beethoven's Fur Elise as I came into the room.
Mr. and Mrs. Rothstein dressed impeccably as one expects of the upper crust of society, sat together on one loveseat and immediately stood to give me a warm hug and a kiss on both cheeks, very Old World, and offer their welcome before holding out a hand for me to take a seat and be comfortable. Another servant standing off to the side wanted to know if I wanted coffee, tea, or hot chocolate which the Rothsteins promised was exceptional today due to a new imported chocolate shipment that had just come in from Belgium. They said while the Swiss may be known for their hot chocolate, in truth it was the Belgians who made the best. Normally the idea of coffee would have been good enough, but the hot chocolate was too tempting not to take them up on so I chose that one instead.
Now had I been an actual customer, the process of buying would have started with some casual get to know you conversation. Customers at this store were seen as long term clients not ones to make a quick buck on. They were also the store's best advertising. After a few minutes the conversation would come around to what was the individual looking for. From those early indications Mrs. Rothstein would use the phone at her side and from her amazing memory call for selected handcrafted pieces to be brought forth on display worn by a series of equally stunning models.
Half the time the store would already have the perfect piece the customer was looking for. For the others the customer would find elements he or she liked and then master jewelry craftsmen would create the piece for the customer's specifications. There was never any haggling on a price. A Rothstein piece cost a certain amount of money that you paid for or you did not…and without exception the customer always paid.
In my case the first steps were the same. We talked of family and I explained the situation with my father and eventually got around to what had brought me here. The part about my father seemed to evoke an odd reaction as the two looked at one another before continuing. I had purposely avoided the Knight of the Cross references in respect for their religion but they seemed to have other concerns of which they did not speak.
I pulled out the velvet back and poured the diamonds out only a small gold serving tray that jewelers use to separate and look at stones. Like any girl I knew about the four Cs when buying gems but that did not mean I had an appraiser's eye like Mr. Rothstein obviously did. Using a tweezers and that thing a jeweler sticks in his eye to magnify the stone he carefully looked at each diamond and scribbled a price on a piece of paper that I could not see and was able to keep from trying. There were eleven in this batch of stones, none of the biggest ones I had but all respectable in size.
Mrs. Rothstein had ignored her husband and carried on with me while she let him do his work. First she put me at ease and called for the Molly set on the phone. She then turned to talk of other things while I suspected in the back other employees were clamoring to fulfill this request. "My dear how much did you say the hospital was charging you?" She asked me over the rim of her own chocolate. Thankfully I had the bill with me and merely took it from my pocket and slid it across the table and over to her.
She looked at it and her eyes widened slightly. At this point her husband showed his wife the tall of his numbers and she looked at him in disapproval and told him to add an additional ten percent since I was family and not merely a customer. Her tone, while sweet in delivery, had that unspoken 'or else you will be sleeping on the couch for a month' threat in it I had heard many other wives make to their husbands. Mr. Rothstein nodded rapidly and scratched out his sum and wrote what his wife had directed before handing it to me.
The sum was more than double what I needed which surprised the heck out of me, but I managed to maintain some composure. I merely stammered before finding my voice. "Ummm that will be fine." At the same time the back door opened again and another model that made me feel significantly overweight carried in a small gold leaf box. This was placed down in front of me and the Rothsteins' eyes twinkled and nodded for me to go ahead an open it.
I did and found an elegant pair of alternating gold ball and pearl earrings, in the case. There was also a small engraved plaque of gold with my name on it which they were hanging from. "They are beautiful." I said in complete shock for what I was seeing. If you could not tell while I may wear jewelry I do not wear fine jewelry. I also knew they were worth more than everything I had ever bought for myself combined.
"They are a simple piece dear made from some extras we had lying around." Mrs. Rothstein lied blatantly to me. "I thought perhaps you might like to have them." I did not know what to say since I sensed this was a gift based upon my earlier kindness to their family. In these types of situations lesser is always the correct answer.
"Thank you."
Mrs. Rothstein merely nodded and then turned to another question. "Molly if you would prefer why don't you allow us to wire the funds to pay this bill and we can deposit this money for you in a private account for future bills?" She asked me as she pointed to the paper still on the table before her. "That way you will not have to explain to the IRS where the money came from and eventually in turn all the actions that led up to you acquiring these stones?" She said much like my own mother would that this was the best solution for us all to take even if I had not been the one to think of it.
I had not considered the IRS and realized now that saying I had been paid in diamonds by an immortal being for finding his watch was likely not going to be believed by the U.S. Treasury. I also had no fear that the Rothsteins would try and rip me off. As evident by their gifts in front of me we had too much emotional attachment for mere money to come between us. Mrs. Rothstein's idea was truly a perfect answer.
"That would be exceptionally kind of you ma'am." I said respectfully. This couple reminded me why Harry was willing to put his life on the line for so many others. She nodded at my acceptance folded the bill from the hospital I had handed to her and slipped it in her pocket telling me to keep my scratch paper with her husband's sum for my own records if I cared to. Then though, with a look from one to the other, the conversation took a strange turn that I had not been expecting.
"Molly are you perhaps related to a young man named Daniel Carpenter by any chance?" She asked me while taking a sip of her now no longer hot hot chocolate. Her eyes stared hard at me but I did not meet them as I had been trained to avoid such things.
"I have a younger seventeen year old brother by that name." I said in response.
"I suspected as much since your story of your father bore striking similarity to his story, though without all the details you provided. And of course your family names were the same so I suspected there was likely a connection between you." She said.
"Daniel spoke to you?" I asked wondering how and why.
"He did indeed." She said picking up the phone one more time. "Please bring up the 'goods' Mr. Carpenter sold us yesterday." She spoke to whoever on the other side of the phone was responsible for carrying out such actions before returning the phone to its cradle once more.
We sat in silence for a few minutes as I pondered not what Daniel had sold, which I was pretty sure I knew already, or why he had sold it, which I also assumed matched my own reasons for being here. Instead I wondered again just what Daniel was into. It seemed to me like I was going to have to check out my brother more closely and figure this out for myself.
The back door opened again and another tray was carried in and placed before Mrs. Rothstein. She drew back the black silk on the tray to expose six gold coins, not Spanish Doubloons as I think I had observed in his room, but gold none the less though smaller and presumably older coins. She turned to look at me.
"Does your family perhaps collect old coins?" She asked.
I could tell she suspected Daniel had raided a family fortune to get cash. While his story had been like mine to help my father, there were probably others in desperate straights that would do so seeking money to buy drugs or other things. The Rothsteins had obviously taken the coins but now were concerned over Daniel's ability to actually sell them.
"We do not." I said removing their fears at being stolen but raising their interest to the level of my own about what he was involved in. "He is working some new job where he gets paid in gold coins…something called a farrier I think?" I said hoping that would make sense to them.
"A farrier shoes horses my dear." Mrs. Rothstein explained. "While they can be expensive for racehorses and such one does not usually get paid in gold for their services. And they certainly would not get paid in sixth century Viking pennies." She finished by naming the coins for me.
"Vikings?" I asked. "You mean those big hairy guys who raided England and such?"
"Indeed, those are the ones."
"And they lived in the northern countries, right?" I asked getting a shiver of understanding going through my body.
"Yes indeed." She answered me. "Scandinavia is beautiful but also known for it months of perpetual night."
"And for being a land of winter…" Her words hung in the air and made me decide Daniel and I had to talk real soon!