Midnight Bite

by Hamilton, Sharon

  The house was in panic mode. Hugh was the first to burst into Lionel’s bedroom, awakening him just before dusk. No one could remember seeing Phoebe since mid-day, and she had been outside, wandering in the garden, picking flowers. Her plastic bucket still sat on one of the cobblestone walls. The water was warm, so they deduced it had been there for several hours.

  “Where was her detail?” asked Lionel.

  Marcus had been on the phone, checking with everyone he could. “They were inside. There is no way to explain it. It is entirely my fault Lionel and I am horrified this is happened.”

  “Let’s just focus on where she is.”

  It was difficult for Lionel to keep the horror of thoughts that kept creeping through his brain, especially knowing Phoebe may be able to hear them or feel them. But after he tried several times, unsuccessfully, to reach her, he knew that she was either immobilized, meaning unconscious, or worse yet, dead.

  The thought that Solomon would have his hands on her, might touch her, or feed from her, sent rage into every cell of his body. Everything, including all of the promises he had made to her parents and to the Monteleones, was secondary. He’d eventually sort out everything, make amends, fix the whole rest of the damn world, but he had to find Phoebe. And he had to put an end to this devil’s stranglehold on the family.

  He looked at the face of his employer, heavily lined, appearing to age decades in front of him. But Lionel couldn’t focus on that. Just like he couldn’t focus on what he would do if they be were suddenly permanently gone. Everything had to go into a rescue plan.

  He closed his eyes and called out to her one more time, straining to feel if there was any disturbance anywhere, anything that came back to him, even a weakened signal from her. But absolutely nothing came back to him.

  Jeb and Hugh were at his side. They knew, because they felt his frantic message to her, and they waited for further instructions.

  Anne approached. “I should call her parents Lionel. It might be better if I did it. But of course they’re going to want to hear from you.”

  “Of course.” He knew he couldn’t speak to them right now. It wasn’t cowardice, because when the time came, he could have that conversation. He just didn’t want to speak to them until he knew something further.

  “I’ll get on the phone as well,” said Marcus, who followed his wife inside.

  Jeb gave him a pat on the back. “What do you want us to do? Should we go through the day’s events again? Do you want to speak to the detail? The staff, anyone who was not asleep during the afternoon?”

  “Yes. Let’s ask everybody again.” He sat next to the pink bucket on the patio as Jeb left to arrange the interviews. As an afterthought, he shouted to Jeb’s back, “No police, unless Marcus insists.”

  “You got it.”

  Cara approached, handing him a tumbler of brandy. “Take this Lionel. Time to go inside. You can’t see anything out here.”

  He looked up at her face and although she was a respected family member, he was angry with her suggestion. The gap between their two worlds had never seemed wider.

  “This is my world. Darkness is where I live. I see in the darkness. I feel things when I’m out here.” He put his hand on the paint bucket. “This is as close to her as I can be right now.”

  Cara’s outstretched hand still held the Tumblr. “Then take this from me, and I’ll send the men out to see you here.”

  Lionel grabbed the Crystal and drank the Brandy in one gulp.

  He was informed that there were staff members who had already gone home, and Marcus requested that everyone return. Several of the household staff lived on the property, so it would not be difficult to get them. But he was told the new vineyard crew lived wherever they could, all over the county.

  “I want every single one of them. I don’t want a single person not reached and brought here right now.” Lionel demanded.

  “We’ll keep trying until we get them all,” Marcus assured him.

  The process took nearly an hour, and not everyone was able to be contacted, but Marcus told him that every group had at least one person to represent them. Also, during that period of time, he was told Phoebe’s parents had been informed as were some of the family members in Tuscany. Marcus had placed a call to Carmine, just in case.

  “I’m not sure he’s been honest with us, again,” said Marcus. “I will personally see to it that he pays for any involvement he has in this situation.”

  “At this point Marcus I don’t care, but I look forward to handing out whatever justice he deserves.”

  A parade of men and household staff represented to Lionel. The patio lights were turned on, chairs were brought out to accommodate the group.

  “So, we’re going to start this all over again. I know Marcus and other members of the family have asked you questions. But I am convinced there’s something we’re not paying attention to. I want to hear from everybody when I ask you, a full and complete description of everybody you saw on this estate today.”

  He scanned the faces of the three former military men, three house staff, two men dressed in khaki uniforms, who appeared to be gardeners, and a young woman caring a child in a sarong about her chest.

  “Does everybody speak English?”

  Everybody nodded their heads with the exception of three individuals at the back of the group. Lionel motioned for them to come forward. “Do you speak English?”

  The woman with a baby and the two men in khaki uniform looked between themselves and then turned for guidance to some of the group who stood behind them.

  Lionel heard Hugh swear under his breath.

  “Español.” The woman with the baby said. “Only Espanol.”

  “Someone help her, please.” Demanded Lionel. One of Marcus’ house staff stepped up and agreed to help.

  After a brief back-and-forth, the three Latino workers nodded their heads in agreement with their new translator.

  “OK. So, has anyone today seen any strangers, someone new they haven’t seen before? “Lionel waited for the translator, and then he watched the crowd’s faces. No one’s hand raised.

  “Are you absolutely sure?”

  The three former military men shook their heads quickly, several of the staff spoke softly amongst themselves and also indicated no. Lionel was about to ask another question when the translator pointed to the woman with the baby.

  “Señor, she says that they saw a man and a woman. He was walking through the vineyard by himself, but then he comes back sometime later, with a woman.”

  “When did this occur?”

  After checking, the translator responded, “She says it was about 2 o’clock. It was before and after they take a bathroom break.”

  “She was willingly walking with him?” Lionel asked.

  “No, senior. She tells me that this man is carrying her like a child. She is sleeping.”

  “Did anyone else see this man?” Lionel asked. “Anyone?”

  Again, the answer was no.

  “Jeb go with this woman and have her show you where this occurred. I want to know what direction they went, and then check to see if there are any buildings around who might have security footage.”

  “I’m on it now.”

  Although the news wasn’t good, he was grateful that the mystery was beginning to lift. The fog of uncertainty that was clouding his mind had started to dissipate.

  Further questioning didn’t give them any more information, so Lionel had the group dismissed.

  “I’m going to call Carmine,” said Lionel.

  Marcus pulled out his telephone and dialed the Monteleones in Tuscany, then handed the phone to Lionel. “Tell him he has to make this right. I’m sure we don’t have to tell him what the Council will do with him.”

  Lionel spoke into the phone. “No, it’s me Lionel, but Marcus is here. You’ve heard?”

  “I have. We are armed to the teeth here. So this means he is still in California?”

  “Why did you tell
us he had left?”

  “After he told me what he was going to do to me and my family, he let it slip. He said he had wasted a good deal of time and that he’d come back later to finish the job when he could have the element of surprise. I thought he called to make sure I understood that everybody in my family was under threat of death.”

  “Do you have any way to reach him?”

  “No. He always contacts me. He likes to just show up and insert himself into my life.”

  “Yes.” Lionel hesitated, and then added, “I don’t think I have to tell you that if he tries to contact you again, I want to know about it immediately, understood?”

  “If I hear from him again, there’s a high likelihood that I won’t survive the meeting. But I’ll try to find some way to get you a message. He never lets people who cross him get away with it.”

  “What was to be your job, Carmine?”

  “My job?”

  “What did he want you to do?”

  “Originally, I was to get invited to Marcus’ estate, and report back about the location of the book. Possibly help him get it. Lionel, you know that’s what he really wants.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  “If you ask me, he’s going to use her so he can get that book. You, Marcus, everybody needs to be prepared for that request. I don’t think he would just take her and disappear. What he really wants is the Book of Spawn.”

  Inside, Lionel sat with Hugh and Marcus. Anne and Cara tended to the children, putting them to bed and then later joined them. As the three men talked, the wives turned pages of the ancient text, studying several maps and pictures.

  “When he requests the exchange,” Marcus started, “I want you to do it Lionel, if you would. And I think you should take your brothers with you.” He looked down at his empty brandy and then shook his head. “I’m giving you full authorization to terminate him if you can. I’m not asking for permission, I don’t want any Council interference.”

  “You could not have stopped me, Marcus. If there is any certainty out of this situation, I believe in my heart that he will not kill or even damage her, until he has the opportunity to get the text. We have leverage, and it’s huge.”

  “And so is the risk, Lionel. But that’s why you should be the only one to handle it.”

  Jeb returned with a thumb drive which he placed in Anne’s computer. They all watched the video clip of Salaman loading Phoebe into the back of the SUV like a piece of luggage. And then he drove away.

  Upon closer examination, they were able to get an enhanced picture of the license plate and its number. They also identified the vehicle as a black Lexus SUV.

  It was now time to involve the local Healdsburg police and the Sonoma County Sheriff.

  Chapter 16

  The traveler drove past a local hardware store, where he had previously seen groups of would-be workers standing in one corner of the parking lot, waiting to be picked up for day jobs. Although it was dark, he found a group of nearly a dozen sitting by a fire made from a metal drum. Usually undocumented workers, they did cash jobs, and not too many questions were asked or answered.

  Solomon didn’t even care if they spoke English or not. They did hard manual work and wouldn’t complain. Most of all, they were not connected to any form of law-enforcement, so using them was less of a risk.

  He slowed as he entered the parking lot, kept the engine running, stepped out of the driver seat and motioned, holding two fingers up, indicating he needed two workers. A third man offered his services and Salaman sent him away.

  “Get in.”

  One worker was gray-haired and wore a straw cowboy hat, which he removed before he sat down. The other worker appeared to be about in his mid-twenties. Without saying a word, they strapped themselves in and Solomon brought his little crew to the winery and then parked in the rear where the cabin was.

  Next door was a large warehouse where several pieces of farm equipment were stored, as well as the remnants of a large truck. The vineyard manager stored several cases of weed killer and insecticide in a locked room with steel bars. He found tools, mainly shovels and rakes, along with some gloves and wire cutters.

  He brought them inside, had them get the shovels and gloves, and showed them a place just off of the gravel driveway in the middle between two rows of vines, a place that had been freshly tilled. He held up his fingers again.

  “Two.”

  He took a metal stake and drew large squares in the soft soil, indicating where he wanted them to dig. He held his hands proximately 4 feet apart to indicate how deep he wanted them to go. Both men removed their jackets, took the shovels and gloves from him and began to work.

  Whenever he traveled, he brought a suitcase full of pieces of equipment that were coated in silver. He whistled, asking the men to follow him to the cabin where he had them bring a mattress he found, while he lugged the large suitcase with his equipment in it.

  He ordered them to go back to work after the mattress and suitcase were placed on one long wall without windows. It was approximately twenty feet from the locked storage area.

  Opening his suitcase, he laid aside the lightweight metal fabric, his invention, manufactured with threads of silver woven in into the material. Beneath the folded material was a set of bolt cutters which he used to snap open the padlock on the door and have access to the poison room. He took out one of several silver coated chains with a padlock and looped it around the opened door.

  Searching for other items he could use, he found a red gasoline can, a cooler containing an unopened case of water bottles, several garbage cans filled with machine parts, and trash. He also located a rusted-out Skill saw which he doubted would work. He found three packages of nails and screws, several hammers as well as two screw guns that hadn’t yet lost their battery power.

  Next to a pile of six well-worn heavy equipment tires, he located a sheet of corrugated metal flashing and an old bench seat from a pick-up truck. He almost toppled the ashtrays, overflowing with cigarette butts. At last, he was delighted to find a book of matches. He had everything he needed to create a huge bonfire that would attract attention for miles.

  After moving everything but the tires, and even dragging the bench seat, everything he planned on needing was located in one spot close to the mattress.

  With all of the items organized, he was pleased with what he’d found.

  He needed to check on Phoebe’s condition and bring her into the warehouse without his helpers seeing her. He repositioned the car just outside the sliding barn door at the back. Opening the hatch, he lifted her up and inside, carrying her to the mattress on the floor. The trunk of Joel’s SUV contained an old quilt which he retrieved and placed over Phoebe’s body. He checked her pulse, and her eyes. He moved her head back-and-forth lightly slapping her cheek to see if he could rouse her and found that she was still unconscious. But her pulse was weaker than he wanted, her body heat was low, so he knew he had to be careful with future injections.

  He sat on the truck bench and walked through what he had to do before he made the call.

  He brought two bottles of water out to the men who had nearly finished their trenches. He held up two thumbs, indicating he was pleased with their work.

  Salaman did not have a soft spot in his heart, but he did feel like rewarding good behavior with another good deed, so he decided to spare their lives. He brought the SUV around and asked them to get in, explaining that he was going to take them back to the hardware store. One of the men took both shovels and headed for the door of the barn and Salaman stopped him immediately.

  “Not necessary. Leave them there,” he pointed. Again, motioning to the car, he had them get in and he began the short drive back to the hardware store. The sun was beginning to set, and that meant the Brothers would be out and about soon. He was running out of time.

  He wondered if the workers had any idea how close to death they’d been. If they’d put up some kind of a fight, it might have been fun to spar with them a
bit. But they did perform work he would have wrenched his back over, so they were useful. Besides, there was no sport in people who were cooperative. And their deaths wouldn’t make the kind of statement he wanted to make.

  Just as they turned inside the parking lot, he stopped, got out his wallet, and paid them each forty dollars.

  He considered buying some sort of snack food inside the hardware store but vetoed it, because he was impatient to get his plan going. On the way back to the warehouse he also considered calling Carmine and getting him involved again. But he ruled it out, guessing that by now, the Golden clans would be checking his every movement. He couldn’t afford to be traced. Not until he wanted them to.

  The sky was now fully darkened. About halfway to the warehouse and cabin, he noticed he’d picked up a local sheriff. The car had two occupants and lingered back far enough so as not to appear ready to pounce. No doubt they were calling in their sighting. So Salaman knew he had to lead them away from where he had Phoebe stored. The inconvenience irritated him.

  Instead of turning down the winery road he kept going straight, the road winding along the banks of the Russian River, heading into dense clumps of redwood trees here and there. Summer cabins dotted the roadway. He was looking for a driveway with multiple mailboxes, hoping to find something private and difficult to describe.

  He located the perfect narrow gravel road, marked with a handmade sign, framed by a dozen mailboxes lined up in a row. By moonlight, he could barely make out the hill above. It appeared to be steep with deep canyons, covered in fir and redwood trees. Just after he turned, he saw the patrol car give him distance, but make the same turn, which confirmed the jig was up and they were onto him. It was time to act fast.

  Pulling into a random driveway, he parked his car in front of an opened garage packed to the gills with junk, and waited, leaving the engine running and his lights on.

  The patrol car blocked his retreat. One officer on the passenger side approached while the other stayed behind the wheel.

  The traveler rolled down his window, peering up at the beefy officer, who had one hand on the service weapon he’d just unsnapped from his belt, and the other holding a flashlight he shone in his eyes.