Chapter 15: Press Your Luck
Frank rolled over in his bed Friday morning to find Biff's bed empty. Not just empty, but not even slept in. His faded t-shirt was still draped at the corner where he had tossed it after he had come out of the bathroom Thursday night. Frank sat up and put on his glasses. The hotel's alarm clock read a quarter until six. Frank glanced down at his smart phone to confirm it. And to think he was the one who needed a tracking device on him.
He padded over to the bathroom and took care of his body's morning needs. When he came out he heard the adjoining door to Amy's suite creak open. And there was Biff, dazed, rumpled and stunned to see Frank already up.
"This is… is not what it looks like." Biff stammered.
"Sure it's not."
"I'm serious, we were just up talking."
"Is that what they call it these days?" Frank rummaged through a drawer for a pair of cargo shorts that came down far enough on his leg to cover most of his surgical scars. After their tense confrontation on the train earlier in the week, Frank was having a bit of fun with Biff's current predicament.
"Seriously Frank, I was a gentleman. We got back to the hotel and we sat in her room talking about… stuff…" Biff sat on the end of his bed.
"Okay, if you say so… Just watch where you step. You know what they say about "a woman scorned" and she's a vampire to boot."
"What are you doing up so early anyway?" Wanting to change the subject Biff noticed Frank heading back to the bathroom.
"You don't remember? A few of those detectives from New Jersey we met invited us to have breakfast at Café Du Monde this morning."
"Oh crap! Yeah I forgot. But they said meet at seven thirty or eight, right?"
"Well yeah, but someone slipped a couple of coupons under my door last night, early bird special. I figured we could get there and place our order and then hang out until they showed up."
"Ah, Frugal Frank strikes again." Frank shook his head and proceeded with his shower. When he got out Biff was passed out on the bed asleep.
"Biff? Hey c'mon and take your shower." Frank nudged Biff's shoulder, but the athlete snorted and nuzzled in to his pillow. Just great. He scribbled a note and left it by Biff's bed telling him where he was headed and reminding him about the tracking app on his phone just incase something happened.
Not that he really wanted to press his luck, but the week had been uneventful, both here and back at home. Maybe their divide and conquer strategy worked and the rogue werewolf had given up. And there had been no sign of Eric since that strange feeling Amy had a couple of months ago, but that was back in New York. Confident he could walk to the café without something disastrous happening Frank picked up his cane, pocketed his phone and headed out the door.
…..
Early morning in New Orleans was relatively peaceful compared to the boisterous atmosphere that was played up by the tourism campaigns. Shop owners hosed down their sidewalks, public works swept the debris from the night before down the street to waiting garbage trucks and delivery trucks were backed up to restaurants where fresh produce and seafood were hauled out to make ready for the day's patrons. The French Quarter was lively, but in a more subtle way.
The fresh morning breeze was a welcome change from the heavy humidity and rain he'd experienced earlier in the week. Frank walked down Canal Street and then turned left onto Decatur, glancing into shop windows and thinking about the ones he'd like to come back to after breakfast when the stores were open.
There was only a small crowd eating beignets and sipping chicory coffee when Frank finally arrived at Café Du Monde. He presented his coupon and placed his order. While he waited Frank tried Biff's cell phone.
"Yeah?"
"You awake yet?"
"Am now."
"Well c'mon and get up, I'm here at Café Du Monde. Call me when you get about halfway down Decatur and I'll place your order before this coupon expires."
"Jeez Frank it's not a big deal…"
"It's fifty percent off!"
"G-d! Okay, lemme shower and I'll head that way."
Frank ended the call and placed his phone on the table. He looked around as the heart of the French Quarter continued to wake up. A short, matronly woman with salt and pepper hair was sipping coffee at a table beside his.
"Well Good Mornin'." She said pleasantly.
"Good Morning." Frank returned.
"Is this your first time in N'awlins?" Frank assumed she was a local as easily and comfortably as she let the city's nickname roll off her tongue.
"I've been here all week on a conference. This is my first time venturing out. Do you live around here?" The blonde smiled and shook her head.
"I live in Metairie, but I work in a shop here in the Quarter. Just having a little quiet time and breakfast before the tourists come out to play." She took another sip of her coffee to fill the awkward silence as a waitress brought Frank his coffee and beignets. Frank's mouth watered at the smell of the sweet fried dough covered in a mountain of powdered sugar.
"Oh my G-d that looks good." He picked one up to bite but the woman stopped him.
"You know, there's a tradition down here. The first time you eat a beignet someone has to blow the sugar in your face. It's part of the fun and that's why they pile the sugar on the way they do. It's no good unless you make a mess." Well why not? When in Rome…
"Okay, go ahead." Frank said in the spirit of fun. The woman picked up a beignet from her own plate and blew the powdered sugar in his face. Frank winced as the white stuff hit his face but he laughed and blinked a few times to make sure there was no sugar getting into his contact lenses.
"Oh my!" The woman drawled, "I didn't mean to get you so good." She laughed lightly and handed Frank a couple of napkins.
"Thanks." He said as he knocked the sugar off of his polo shirt and began to wipe it off his face. He sneezed a few times.
"Bless you!"
"Thanks." He opened his eyes and sneezed again.
"Goodness, you must have gotten a good bit up your nose." She placed a small hand on his shoulder.
"Eee…shooo! Sorry, yeah, I musta…" Frank's head swam for a moment. He looked at the older woman and for a moment he couldn't discern the look on her face. Where he had assumed there would be a look of motherly concern, she seemed to look expectant, like she was waiting for something to happen.
"What're you…" His head swam again, more dizzying than before.
"Oh my darlin', you don't look so good." Something was not right, alarm bells were going off in Frank's head but for some reason he could not get his body to react.
"I think you should lie down. C'mon with me and I'll take care of you sweetheart." Obediently, Frank stood and allowed the woman to put a supporting arm around his waist and draped his arm over her shoulder. She grabbed his cane as well and the odd couple made their way across Decatur Street toward Jackson Square.
…..
Biff finished toweling off from his shower and dressed, cursing himself for staying up so late. Now he'd be dragging tail all day, even if he did take an extra dose of vampire serum, he wouldn't have his usual pep in his step. Biff walked through Amy's suite and double checked the door that led to the corridor. Do Not Disturb sign? Check. He fiddled with the heavy light-blocking curtains, making sure there was no chance the sun would seep through at any point during the day. Check.
He turned around to see the dark, sleeping figure of Amy Johnson in the king-sized bed. He chuckled to himself, for as cool and sophisticated as the four hundred year old vampire tried to be, the woman was curled up in the fetal position, her fancy, manicured thumb dangerously close to her bottom lip. All Biff would need to do is push her elbow just a hair and she would be sucking that thumb like a two year old. Nah, not worth it.
Biff did sit beside her on the bed and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. Okay, this morning was exactly what it looked like. Biff just wasn't sure how Frank would react to them moving so fast. He definitely didn't feel like getting a lecture on matters of the heart before daybreak from Frank Hardy, Bayport's Oldest Living Virgin. Well, at least a virgin until last year. Not everyone was lucky enough to fall madly in love and get engaged in less than a year to the first person they ever have sex with. Not everyone was lucky enough to fall in love with a human.
…..
Biff was two blocks down Decatur Street when he looked at his phone. He knew he'd be pushing it, but Frank should be able to put in his coffee and donut order before that stupid coupon expired. He rang Frank, but he didn't pick up. Crap. Maybe Frank was talking to someone, calling Phil to tell him how romantic New Orleans was. Oh Phil I miss you, mwa mwa mwa.
Café Du Monde came into view when he got past Jackson Square. He looked around the dining area and did not see Frank. Biff pulled out his phone again and quickly dialed Frank. While he waited for Frank to pick up, he heard a familiar ring tone coming from near the kitchen. He walked over and found a smart phone lighting up and ringing in a Lost and Found box near the cashier. Frank's phone!
A cold feeling prickled down his spine as he reached in and picked up the phone. It began ringing again and Biff recognized the number that came up on the caller ID. Shit!
"Joe?"
"Hey, Biff. Can I talk to Frank?" The younger Hardy brother sounded agitated.
"Um."
"Biff? What's going on?"
"I was supposed to meet him here at the Café Du Monde. I'm just now getting here and he's not here, just his phone." Silence.
"Frank's not there?" Joe said finally, his voice shaky.
"Hold on, lemme check my phone. Phil made a tracking app to follow Frank…"
"You and the vampire went with Frank to New Orleans to keep him safe and you lost him. How the fuck did you lose him? Why weren't you with him?"
"I…Just hang on Joe! The tracking app is picking up his signal." Biff crossed the street and headed to Jackson Square. The signal brought him to a shop in the PontalbaBuilding, La Fleur Minérale. The shop was still dark like many of the others, the sign on the door still flipped over to "Closed." Biff looked at the hours posted on a sign near the door knob, the store would not open until ten o'clock. It was now almost seven thirty, two and a half hours! So much could happen in that amount of time. Biff felt like his brain was going to explode. This was the deepest shit he'd ever been in his life. Frank was missing, on his watch. The only person Biff could think of to help him was asleep and not able to come out in the sunlight. Damn, damn, damn!
"Biff!" He could hear Joe squawk on Frank's phone.
"The signal took me to a perfume shop. But it doesn't open until ten." He looked around, still seeing no sign of Frank.
"Alright I'm heading down there! Lemme check and see when the next flight down there is."
"Okay." Biff said weakly. What else could he say? He'd screwed up. But wait. They were supposed to meet up with those detectives from New Jersey for breakfast. The city was crawling with detectives…
…..
In a damp, dank basement all Frank could do was to stare into the darkness helplessly. When he and the older woman had arrived at a store front, a suave looking middle-aged man with silver hair opened the door for them and closed it quickly behind them.
"Mozelle, I do believe I owe you a raise, mon cher."
"We'll discuss it later after you fleece him." Mozelle winked at the silver haired man and he kissed her cheek in return. And before Frank's eyes Mozelle's appearance began to change. She grew taller, curvier, her hair changed from the bobbed salt and pepper hair-do to long, wavy and artificially blonde.
"Why don't you change clothes while I make our guest more comfortable?" the older man purred, watching appreciatively as the woman sashayed into a room in the back of the store. He turned his attention to Frank and appraised the young man.
"Come Monsieur Hardy. Your new accommodations wait." Frank's foot started forward and then stopped. No! Frank thought. There was no way he was willfully going wherever this man was taking him. Frank started to sweat, fighting the command his body was given. But the man gave him a feral smile.
"Ah… He said you were a feisty one." The man walked behind the antique counter and pulled out a jar of something that resembled bath salts. Frank tried to get away, tried to tell his body to back up and get out of there. But his body was still obeying his brain's command not move. While Frank's brain and body struggled for control the older man approached, a few granules of the substance were on the tip of his index finger. He grabbed Frank's jaw with one hand, just enough to open the boy's mouth, and shoved his finger in, pressing the granules to the tissue under Frank's tongue.
"There now." He patted Frank's cheek. "That was not so bad, was it?" The granules felt like pop rocks exploding under his tongue. And with every miniature explosion he felt his body relax, loosen, until his knees buckled and the older man caught him.
"I apologize Monsieur Hardy, but you forced my hand." He scooped Frank up like he weighed no more than a ragdoll. Frank's head lolled back, he had no control over his neck muscles and all he could make of his surroundings was the pressed tin ceiling tiles above and the side of the man's face. His head was still swimming from the intoxicating effects of that stuff the man put in mouth, Frank was disoriented and had no way of telling in which direction they were going.
The only thing he knew for sure was the sensation of them descending a narrow stairway. The older man did not bother to turn on the lights, although some light did pass down from the opened door. Apparently this man found the dark quite easy to navigate. Frank felt himself being lowered onto a soft surface. Then his polo shirt was being rudely pulled up and over his head. His shorts were unbuttoned, his underwear was yanked off.
In his head Frank was in a state of shock and panic. This can't be happening again! He'd just gotten his life back! He and Phil were making plans for a future! Stop touching me, please. Please no! No, no, no….
The man could feel Frank's tremors as he finished undressing the brunette. He cupped Frank's face in both of his hands.
"Shh… Mon cher." He said soothingly. "You are a pretty thing. But you are not mine to have. I will not harm you. What is the saying? Look but no touch?" Frank could feel the weathered fingers brush the hair from his forehead. "But I must keep you here for a time. I must make sure you do not leave just yet. Oui?"
Frank heard the clinking of something metallic and felt his wrists being clapped in rough feeling manacles. His ankles were secured as well.
"I suggest you get a little rest now, Monsieur Hardy, until the effects wear off. And oh!" the man removed Frank's bracelet from his wrist. "My Mozelle requires her well deserved raise."
Frank felt the man get off the bed and heard him walk up the wooden stairs. The door to the basement closed, and Frank was plunged into total darkness.