Kire20

Just as I prepared to excuse myself from the study, a soft but steady knock at the door gave us both pause. We both sat in silence for a moment before Charles furrowed his brow. "Was-was that… the back door?" he questioned, keeping his voice low.

"Certainly sounded like it," I answered as I pushed my chair back and stood.

"Alex, perhaps?" Charles questioned, his tone filled with concern.

"Never," I answered. "Stomping and yelling, yes, but politely knocking, most likely not."

Excusing myself, I strode through the house and toward the kitchen where I found Archie Leach pacing back and forth. The moment I saw him, I paused and clenched my jaw.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded.

"I wasn't sure where you would be, so I stopped at Julie dear's first," he said, seemingly unfazed by my tone. "Though out of all the places in the world, I was fairly certain I would find you in one of two locations." He snapped his fingers. I wasn't entirely sure why.

He left me truly speechless.

"I may have some pertinent details about the gentleman following you through Paris," he said casually.

At once he had my rapt attention. "Go on," I said eagerly.

"You're most likely unaware of Leach Investigative Services," he said, keeping his voice to a whisper. "Which is precisely the point, I suppose."

"Do you have something of importance to say?" I asked gruffly.

"That man you saw, I believe he has been in town since the middle of March, renting a house with another gentleman a few streets away."

"Then he did follow us back," I said, balling my hands into fists.

Archie shrugged. "Not necessarily. Why, he could have been returning home and was simply caught in the rain."

Frustrated, I ran my tongue along the inside of my cheek and exhaled hard. I felt certain I had not conjured up some irrational fear or trepidation over a stranger.

"What else do you know about him and his counterpart?" I questioned.

Archie shrugged. "They are either cousins or brothers. Very similar in build, but I suppose we are nearly the same height, Monsieur, and we could be mistaken for relatives from afar."

He was absolutely mad. No one would ever mistake us for relatives and he was mistaken on us being the same height.

"What else?" I asked impatiently.

He shrugged. "They are not French, from what I understand."

His words immediately garnered my attention. I stood rigid, my breath lodged in the back of my throat.

"Where are they from, then?" I asked.

"Germany, I believe," Leach answered. He rose up on the tips of his toes, then rolled down to the balls of his feet. He simply couldn't stand still. "They had several parcels postmarked from Germany.

My eyes narrowed. That was not the answer I had been expecting. "Are you certain?" I asked.

Archie issued an easy smile. "Monsieur Kire, I am here to tell you that you have absolutely nothing to worry about. The moment you step foot into a Leach cottage, all of your concerns will simply melt into the horizon." He clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. "We offer only the finest arrangements, Monsieur, I guarantee that or my name isn't Leach."

I glared at him. Being away from home would simply mean I would remain unsettled until we returned—and hoped we were not followed.

Archie's smile widened. "Whomever you saw on the street, consider that a matter of coincidence."

Unfortunately, I didn't believe in coincidence.

I escorted Archie to the front door, where we were greeted by Bessie, who had somehow managed to pull her leash down from the hook and lay it across the floor.

"Meanie and I are leaving tonight for the cottage," Archie said before he left. "We want to make sure your accommodations are suitable for your arrival."

Quite frankly Alex and Lissy were only concerned about digging in the sand, Julia wanted a holiday spent with her family, and I wanted peace, quiet, and time alone with my wife. We could have stayed in a hut everyone would have been satisfied.

"That's not necessary," I replied.

Naturally, he waved off my words. "We strive to make even the smallest detail an important one, my friend. In our line of business—and as you know there are many—every aspect is grand!"

And incredibly tiresome, I wanted to add.

"Are you bringing Bessie as well? Alex wanted to include her in his performance."

I looked from the dog—who had the remarkable gift of looking absolutely pathetic, even for her breed—to Archie.

"I don't think Julia would appreciate our first week together including a dog."

Archie shrugged. "She can always stay with us." He paused and smiled. "And naturally I mean this fine specimen of a hound. She sure is a beauty!" He accentuated his words with an unnecessary clap.

Bessie, apparently aware of his praise, tossed her head back and howled in pure canine delight. Her entire, long body wriggled as she wagged her tail.

To my surprise, Archie bent and Bessie threw herself onto her back for a gluttonous belly rub. Her tail swished across the rug, ears spread out on either side of her head while she kicked her legs as if running upside down.

Seeing the two of them carrying on like grand chums, I shook my head, finding them somewhat amusing. "I'll consider bringing her along," I said, knowing full well Julia would have the last word.

Archie seemed satisfied by my answer and stood, dusting dog hair from his trousers. "We will see you tomorrow then, good sir. Give my best to your bride."

With that he left, which seemed to disappoint Bessie, who remained in position for a belly scratch. She yawned and whined once the door shut, then looked up at me with her large, questioning eyes and paws still in the air.

I narrowed my eyes to scold her, which had absolutely no effect on my insolent dog, and asked one simple question.

"Walk?"

She sprang up and ran directly into the closed door, which rattled with the force of her squat frame. She immediately fell onto her side, and for a moment I feared she would knock herself as senseless as Archie Leach.

Thankfully she climbed to her feet, gave a full body shake, and stared at the door, wisely keeping her distance.

With a sigh, I leashed her, grabbed my coat, and opened the door. I allowed her to drag me down the stairs and onto the street, then cleared my throat and told her that was more than enough. She glanced back, then pranced along as though she had found herself in the middle of a parade.

Nothing cleared my mind quite like an evening walk through the streets with Bessie leading me toward whatever smell fascinated her canine senses.

Thanks to the rain, there were all sorts of puddles, which provided plenty of opportunity for her to sniff one, inhale a bit of rainwater, and proceed to sneeze and shake her head before she trotted off to the next one and repeated her nonsensical actions.

Fog weaved in between the hissing street lamps while puddles glistened in the pallid light. Bessie slowed her pace and walked a few steps behind me as we neared the corner. Most of our late walks ended with her practically being dragged behind me, unwilling to return home. She had a penchant for roaming the streets and its many smells.

"Another street," I said under my breath, hoping I wouldn't draw attention to myself speaking to a dog.

Now that we were venturing another street over, I wished I had asked Archie for an exact address for the two men of unknown origin.

We walked briskly, my gaze sweeping the darkened streets where traffic consisted mostly of cabs and the occasional citizen on foot.

In my mind I went over the details, questionable as they were, that Archie had provided. As far as I could recall, I had no association with anyone from Germany, though I supposed at some point I could have come into contact with an individual who had eventually moved to Germany.

There were two men, apparently, and this significantly seemed to narrow down who they might be. More than that, I had no idea what they would want with me.

I considered turning around and walking to my cousin's home but feared becoming a burden with my constant intrusions, especially when I assumed he was eating supper or perhaps entertaining others.

Bessie started to pull me toward the corner and I had one last look around the street. A gentleman stood beneath a street lamp just ahead of his, his collar flipped up, hat low over his eyes. Briefly I stared at him, then shortened the leash and slowed our pace. The stranger turned and watched us, his face obscured by the shadows. As we approached, he fully turned to face us and began to reach into his coat.

I stood no more than ten paces from him and came to an abrupt stop. Bessie whined and sat at my feet, her tail slowly wagging. I held my breath and waited, expecting him to produce some type of weapon and threaten me in the darkness.

The man dropped the object from his coat and a spray of metal hit the cobblestones. The resounding metallic noise startled me and sent my brave canine as far behind me as she could manage.

I started to turn toward Bessie but thought better of it and kept my gaze trained on the stranger. All he needed was a moment's distraction and he would have the upper hand.

In the past, I had been both the person offering a bit of distraction as well as the man who had foolishly been caught off his guard.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

The man cringed and sank to his knees as he gathered up his fallen coins. "No one, Monsieur," he said, his tone trembling and pathetic. "Just a man who is hungry. Do you have any change to spare? Enough for a piece of bread?"

Judging by the smell of wine permeating the air around him, I suspected he was more thirsty than starving.

"I do not," I said gruffly.

He dumped all the coins he could find into his cup and reached out toward Bessie, who continued to pull away. Other than the Vicomte, whom she had bitten, she was normally friendly and engaging around strangers. This man, however, she wanted nothing to do with…and I had no idea if she saw something lacking in his character or if him dropping all of his money had frightened her.

"What a nice dog you have there," the beggar said. He started to reach out, but Bessie gave a warning growl and he wisely retracted his hand.

Without wasting another moment of my time, I turned and decided to return home for the evening. From the corner of my eye I saw two men on the opposite side of the street. They took no notice of me and rounded the corner without ever glancing in my direction.

I had forgotten the sensation of be on edge, afraid that the slightest sound would lead to pain, that a person could elicit intense fear simply by the sound of her cruel, even tone.

My heart started to race, my hands trembling. Frustrated, I quickened my pace and Bessie followed right alongside me without bothering to sniff a single puddle or blade of grass on our way home.

Once home was within sight, I felt no better. In fact I felt much worse. There were more people at risk of being hurt or killed now than there were back in those days. I thought of the maze of mirrors, the intricate puzzle boxes, the torment of not only physical pain but sheer exhaustion, and the rooms behind the mirrors…

I had traveled throughout Europe in a circus where illusions were everywhere, but a different place had broken me. In the Persian desert, I learned bitterness was not enough to separate me from the rest.

For a long moment I stood on the stairs and attempted to harness my erratic breathing. That place had created a monster, and a horrible woman had fed the beast. The realization that I had once been her purchased servant now sickened me.

The front door suddenly opened and I nearly fell backward off the stairs. Meg saw me, gasped, and slammed the door shut once more. She made no attempt to stifle a curse, which I heard clearly even with the door shut.

Startled, I stared at the closed door for a moment before it creaked open and Meg, whose face was bone white, peered out. Bessie managed to dart into the house, dragging her leash behind her before words were exchanged.

"What are you doing?" Meg asked.

"Nothing," I snapped.

"My goodness, you frightened me. I thought you'd returned home for the night."

"May I remind you, Meg Lowry, this is still my home?"

"Yes, I know, but I thought you'd be with Julia. Are you waiting for someone?" she asked, persistent as ever to engage in conversation.

"And who in the hell would I be waiting for?" I grumbled.

Ignoring my tone, she stepped outside, wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, and inhaled deeply. "Fresh air," she said pleasantly enough. "The breeze feels so good. I've spent the better part of the day confined to a single room."

I looked away from her, wondering if she realized her unintentional insult. To hell with the night air, I wanted to tell her. There were two men taking up residence a few blocks from my home and I doubted they were there by simple coincidence.

"I bet the air by the ocean is even sweeter," Meg mused.

"Salty," I corrected.

She made a face. "I just meant I bet it will be a pleasant stay," she said with a shrug. "For most people," she added, her eyes narrowed.

I turned and fully looked at her. "I beg your pardon, Madame Lowry."

Meg frowned. "Why are you so angry?" she questioned, sounding as though she were absolutely perplexed. Before I could reply, she reached out and dug her fingers into my arm as though scolding a child. "You have a family around you—a mother and sister for your son and a wife who loves you. How can you possibly be so upset?"

"Because I have a family," I said plainly.

My past had taught me the worst pain wasn't necessarily physical. Mentally, emotionally, there were ways to make a person suffer for a lifetime. The scars on my flesh had healed, but there were much deeper ones.

Meg narrowed her eyes and turned her head to the side. Thankfully she loosened her grip. "I don't know what you mean."

"Because I have more in my life than I ever imagined," I said through my teeth. "And I know how easy it is to lose everything."

Her eyes widened with concern. "You saw something? Someone?" she asked, her tone hinging on panic.

I sighed. "No," I answered, feeling my frustration rise again. "Not yet."

I hoped not ever.