Vengeance

by JL Wilson

  I straightened up. I couldn't interpret her tone of voice. She sounded...hurt? Defensive? "Not at all." I dumped the wineglass in the trash and grabbed a dishtowel. "I'm saying you're too nice to bully someone."

  "Oh." She sighed. "I'm sorry. I had another argument with my sister and I guess that's coloring everything I hear."

  "Do you argue often?" I put the towel over the spill and watched the dark red wine absorb into the pale yellow fabric.

  "All the time."

  She sounded unconcerned by this lack of sibling harmony. "You argue? About what?" I tossed the dishtowel in the kitchen wastebasket and got out a new glass.

  "Everything. We're so different. She cares about money and I don't. She wants to go public with the company and I don't. She doesn't want us to spend time on charitable research projects and I do." Lucinda sighed again. "I suppose that's why my father made her the CEO. The company is doing great. If I were CEO, we'd probably be broke."

  "What do you mean you don't care about money?" I poured another glass of wine and sipped it, staring at the cookies in the pink and purple basket. They were Easter shapes--bunnies, chicks, lambs--and decorated with glittery sprinkles. I broke off one bunny ear outlined with pink icing. The cookie melted on my tongue, the flavors of butter and sugar sending a jolt through me, reminding me of that shock I felt when Lucinda touched my hand.

  Can I have some? You're having some. Can I have some?

  I looked down. The damn dog was right there, sniffing at the counter. "How did you get in here without me hearing you?"

  Lucinda laughed. "You've never had pets, have you? They travel in stealth mode when they want to. Don't let him eat any cookies or candy. They'll probably upset his stomach."

  "No, you don't." I pushed the basket far back on the counter. "Lucinda said you couldn't have any. They'll make you sick."

  He gave me a disgusted look and padded back into the living room. I take back what I said. She's not a nice lady.

  I laughed. "He just said--" I shut my mouth as I realized what I'd almost blurted.

  She laughed too. "He said what?"

  I shook my head, amazed at my own stupidity. "He just gave me a look that spoke volumes." I took my glass back into the living room. "So what did you mean about the money?"

  "I don't really care about making a lot of money. I'm not very good at managing it, so it's sort of a hassle when I make a lot." She paused. Was it my imagination, or did she sound concerned? "John--John Fairchild, you met him tonight--has been helping me try to understand the bookkeeping at the company. I felt I should take a more active role in that kind of management. But I don't quite see how it all works. I guess I don't understand accounting."

  "I do. Is it something I could help with?" A look at the books for Delacroix Labs might be interesting.

  "I don't want to take up your time. You've got neighbor ladies dropping by and socializing to do...you know, all that Easter stuff. Besides, you're probably busy at work. This must be your busy season with spring break and all."

  I drew a blank for a minute then I remembered Travel And Tours Associated. "I do a lot of work out of my house. And Edna, my neighbor, has gone home. She and her husband Wayne don't stay out late. Seriously, Lucinda, can I help?"

  "Well..."

  I silently urged her to confide in me, but my pleas apparently went unheard. "Maybe we can talk about it tomorrow. If you still want to go out, that is," she said in an overly casual voice.

  She sounded unsure. "Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

  "Oh, no reason. It's just that Cara--she's my sister--well, she and I always argue about just about everything. Money, clothes, cars...men."

  My attention sharpened. "Really?" The way she said it told me it was of importance.

  "Yeah. She said..."

  There was a long pause. "Lucinda?"

  "Well, apparently John called her. You know how John is." She blew out an exasperated sigh. I didn't know how John was, but I was getting a sense of it from her tone of voice. "He probably ran home and did a full financial background check on you. He's so serious about stuff like that. I mean, he called me after you left and said that your car cost--"

  Her voice broke off. "Cost what?" I prompted.

  She laughed nervously. "Honestly, he must be wrong. Nobody would pay that much for a car. He cares about stuff like cars, and clothing designers, and where people shop. Like it matters what people pay for that kind of thing."

  "So he called your sister and reported that a strange man with expensive tastes gave you a ride home and your sister, knowing your lack of interest in money, was curious?" I could imagine it. My financial background check on Lucinda had shown that she was comfortably set, far more so than was shown by a little house in a distant suburb and a ten-year-old economy car. I also did a cursory check on her sister, Cara, who owned a condo in downtown Minneapolis and took regular 'business' trips to Paris and Madrid. What was it Fairchild had said? They were, indeed, as different as night and day.

  "Exactly. Cara wanted to know where I met you and why I let you give me a ride home. I'm not stupid. John followed us. I was perfectly safe. Besides, as I told Cara, it hardly matters if you have money or if I have money. What matters is that you have a good heart. Heavens, you took in that awful dog. That proves it."

  I glanced at the bed where the awful dog should have been sitting.

  It was empty.

  "Damn it." I sprang to my feet.

  "What?"

  "That stupid dog." I raced into the kitchen. Cerberus had his paws up on the counter and his face buried in the Easter basket. "He's eating Easter candy."

  "Oh no. He's going to regret it."

  "Get away from there!"

  Cerberus darted away as I approached to examine the damage. Part of the pink excelsior was missing, along with almost half of the cookies. One hard-boiled egg had been partially devoured and it looked like a couple of foil-wrapped eggs were gone too.

  Tell Mrs. Taylor they were good. He burped and went to his water bowl. More, please?

  "You'd better make sure he can get out tonight," Lucinda said in a warning voice. "He's going to need the bathroom."

  "What?" My voice rose with my disbelief.

  Cerberus regarded me warily from across the room. What?

  "Dogs don't digest sugar well. He's going to have some problems. I'm sorry, Nico. I shouldn't have asked you to take him."

  I closed my eyes and prayed for patience. "Don't worry, Lucinda. You can pay me back tomorrow at dinner."

  "What?" Her voice came out as a high-pitched squeak.

  I smiled. I did this kind of blackmail well. "I'll expect payment tomorrow. See you then." I disconnected the line and turned to the dog. "How do you feel?"

  Fine. More water, please?

  I filled his bowl and set it down. "Do you need to go out before we go to bed?"

  He burped again, blowing bubbles into his water dish. Nope. I'm fine.

  "I hope you are."

  As we found out at two in the morning, he wasn't.

  Chapter Six

  "I should have taken you to the vet and had your stomach pumped."

  Cerberus was lying on the rug in front of the fireplace in my home office. He'd thrown up on his mat in the living room. The smell forced me to toss it in the trash. He groaned. Please, don't mention the 's' word.

  I could hear his stomach rumbling from across the room. His groans, vomiting and woofing at the garage door had awakened me from one of my usual nightmares. It was the same dream, or variation thereof. Cerberus's whimpers of pain coalesced with my dream in which Persa was dying next to me and I was helpless to aid her. Then the dream shifted and I was the one who was dying, a bullet hole in my chest and a woman holding me in her arms, her gray eyes wide with grief. For a brief instant I thought it was Lucinda Delacroix then I was spinning through space, alone and bereft, only to wake up, drenched in sweat and shivering.

  I deactivated the security system just in time for Cerberus t
o have diarrhea on the front lawn. Thank God he got out of the house. I had one whiff of the smelly mess when I went out to check on him. If he did it in the house I would have had to either burn the place down or have it fumigated.

  He spent a brisk half-hour vomiting and shitting, then came back in, flopped down in the kitchen and passed out. I considered calling Lucinda to see if this was normal canine behavior after consuming quantities of sugar, but the animal was snoring loudly, so I assumed he'd survive.

  It was now nine in the morning. He had padded in to join me a few minutes earlier as I sat at my computer, a state-of-the-art system I designed and constructed myself. I was digging into the details of Delacroix Labs, using a few not-so-legal access points into computer systems.

  Lucinda was right to be concerned. Delacroix Labs had, on the surface, a solid fiscal base and good market potential. But a couple of hours ago I started poking into the financial backgrounds of people associated with the company. The Delacroix security programs were easy to bypass and through the company's internal audit files I found the banking locations for upper management. After that, it took just a few minutes to start poking into various accounts. Initially I didn't find anything, but after digging deeper I started finding some odd transactions.

  So what are we doing today? Cerberus asked.

  "We are not doing anything. I am meeting Lucinda for dinner." I glanced at him. He was stretched out, looking limp and relaxed. His fur was matted and his paws were coated with muck. "You need a bath."

  Not again! I just had one. He yawned.

  "If you're going to share space with me, you'll be clean." I glanced at him over one shoulder. "So how long have you been a dog?"

  The startled look on his face was comical. Even more comical was how he tried to hide it. What do you mean?

  I turned back to my computer. "You obviously haven't been a dog for long. Otherwise you'd know that candy makes you sick."

  I just have a sensitive stomach, he assured me. It's got nothing to do with dogness.

  "Right." I let my skepticism show in my voice. The only extensive telepathic speech I'd had with animals had been with Persa. I assumed Cerberus was a Companion, like her, which meant he was a shapeshifting human who could assume animal form. If he chose to hide that fact, it didn't matter to me.

  So what's interesting on the computer? he asked, yawning again.

  Before I could reply my phone rang. I answered on my conference line.

  "Nico?"

  I recognized that low, hesitant voice. "Lucinda, it's good to hear from you."

  Ooh, she's calling again. It must be love.

  I put a hand over the phone. "Shut up."

  "I hope I didn't call too early. I was worried about your dog. Is he okay?"

  I glanced at the creature in question, who lolled on the rug, mesmerized by the flickering fire. "He was so sick last night," I said with what I thought was a flash of genius. "He looks very weak and tired. Is that normal?" I injected concern and worry into my voice.

  I told you, I'm fine. Cerberus twisted to look at me, ending up on his back with his massive paws dangling over his chest. He looked relaxed, happy and content.

  "Is he still sick? I knew that candy would upset his stomach. Dogs aren't the brightest creatures in the world. They insist on eating what's bad for them. Is there anything I can do? I feel so guilty."

  "I don't know. I'm not sure if I should take him to the doctor."

  Please. You know I'm fine. No need to bother the local medical establishment.

  "I'm sorry. Was it awful?" She managed a nervous laugh. "When pets are sick it's so messy and worrisome. You've never had pets before, have you?"

  "What makes you say that?"

  "I don't know, just something in the way you talk to him. I mean it, Nico. Is there anything I could do to help?"

  "Well..."

  "Please. Let me help."

  I leaned back in my chair. "Maybe if you could take a look at him? I hate to take him to the vet if it's something that will pass."

  Very smooth, Cerberus said, his voice amused. Lure her here with your concern for the poor homeless critter.

  "You mean come to your house?"

  I heard wariness in her voice. I chose to ignore it. "I'm sorry. Of course, you can't. You're a busy businessperson. And your car--did you get it fixed? What am I thinking of? It would be terribly inconvenient. You have to be at the office."

  "My car's fine. It's not that. I mean, I do need to be at the office, but..."

  I could almost hear the wheels turning in her brain. "No, don't worry. I'm sure he'll be fine." Make noise, I commanded. Sound sick.

  Cerberus gave a pitiable woof then groaned loudly.

  "Is he there with you?"

  Do it again. "I'm keeping him nearby. He just looks so weak."

  Cerberus padded over to stand near me. Ow, he moaned loudly. Oh, owie. It hurts so baaaaddddd...

  "Okay," I muttered. "Enough. Are you sure, Lucinda? I know how busy you are."

  "I can get away. Tell me how to get to your house."

  I gave her directions and she promised to be there within the hour. I hung up and looked at Cerberus. "You need to look sicker."

  Give me another cookie and I won't have to pretend.

  I shook my head. "No way. Act."

  Spoilsport.

  * * * * *

  Forty-five minutes later, Lucinda's dirty red Subaru pulled into my drive. I opened the garage door, walking out to meet her and steer her toward the security entrance.

  Are you going to make her step on that pad? Get her paw print? Cerberus asked from behind me.

  "No. I have another system for adult humans." When I designed the security system I based it on voice and fingerprint recognition. I added the footpad when it occurred to me I might someday know someone who couldn't speak, like a small child. I didn't consider the possibility that the 'someone' might be a dog. "Now go inside and look infirm."

  Are you planning on having her over to visit often? Is that why you're adding her to your security system?

  I'm doing it just in case. Now get inside.

  I glanced back to see him disappear into the house. I was glad now I didn't insist on that bath. His matted fur and crusty paws made him look disreputable.

  Lucinda got out of the car and hurried toward me. She wore a tailored denim jacket, long denim skirt and red cowboy boots that matched her red cloth hat and the red sweater I saw under her jacket. "Nico, I'm so sorry for all this trouble. I should never have insisted you take him in." She stopped breathlessly in front of me, staring up with an anxious look in her gray eyes.

  I smiled with satisfaction. She just said two of the five key words I required for the security program. Those words, combined with her fingerprints on one of three items in the house--the metal railing leading into the house, the refrigerator handle or the doorknob leading to the bathroom attached to my bedroom--would be enough to allow me to add her to the database. I could capture the other words inside the house, as we talked.

  "Thank you for coming." I gestured toward the door then picked up the sack I set there the night before. "Before I forget, this is for you."

  Lucinda peered inside the sack then looked up at me. "Wow. You shouldn't have." She pulled off her Mickey Mouse mittens and red cloche as she dashed up the short set up steps leading into the laundry room and then the kitchen. As she did, she touched the railing. I swiped a palm across my touchpad and stored her prints just as I did previously when Cerberus stepped on the ID pad and I stored his prints. The system was one of my own design and had served me well in the years I was using it.

  "I was shopping for the dog and thought you might be able to use it."

  She paused at the entrance and vigorously wiped her boots, reminding me of Cerberus the night before when he first came in to the house. The beast was sprawled in the doorway between the living room and kitchen. He raised his head weakly as we came in, managing a credible open-mouthed drool as he did so
. Lucinda put her things on the kitchen counter then crossed the room to kneel down on the floor. She gently took his face between her hands.

  "You silly dog. Look at all the trouble you've caused for this nice man."

  It got you out here, didn't it? He peered mournfully at her.

  She looked at me over her shoulder, her dark curls an untidy riot. "Was he sick all night?"

  "Just for an hour or two." I looked down at Cerberus over her shoulder. The black splotches on his back were a sharp contrast to the white tile of the floor and the rest of his fur. I wondered if she could see the mischievous intelligence in those pale eyes, almost hidden by his hair. "But he seemed very lethargic this morning. I wasn't sure if that was normal."

  He sighed theatrically. Scratch my back, he murmured as he twisted under her touch.

  I had a sudden, erotic impression of Lucinda's hands, moving over my own naked back. I shivered just as Cerberus did.

  "It's okay," she murmured. "Silly dog." She started to stand, but lost her balance.

  I grabbed her hand to steady her. Once again that stunning psychic connection flowed through me. Images and emotions pulsed through my mind--a tall, slender woman with long thick hair. John Fairchild, laughing. I saw a room, perhaps in her home, where a mother cat and two kittens lay in a basket by a fire. Then I glimpsed someone I recognized.

  Robert Meyer's face floated across my vision, smiling and carefree. Rage shook me, molten and hot. My hand tightened on Lucinda's.

  She stumbled, colliding with me. "What's wrong?" Grasping my arms, she shook me. "Are you okay?"

  The break in flesh-to-flesh contact restored my senses. "I'm fine. Why, do I look sick too?" I smiled, trying to control the anger that still shook me.

  "I don't know. I thought for a minute..." She shook her head. "I don't know."

  Interesting. She's slightly telepathic. Cerberus made a woofing sound that morphed into a low groan. Oh, owie. Oh, woe is me. Oh, I hurt so much.

  Lucinda looked back at him. The warmth from her body combined with a heady aroma a flowery, elusive fragrance. Once again that burst of eroticism washed over me. I trembled as I took a step back. It was that or pull her into my arms.