by Wilson, Maer
The house was three stories, with smooth lines that were warm, as well as graceful. My eye was drawn to a large avant-garde, stained glass window on the third story level. The abstract pattern sparkled with blues, greens and lavenders. Several shallow steps led to tall, double doors in gleaming wood and glass.
I could smell the ocean close by. In spite of my continued distrust of Jones, I was impressed with the beauty of his home. Manicured gardens with inviting paths circled around the house and out of sight. If I'd had to choose one word to describe this place, it would have been “peaceful.” The irony wasn't reassuring.
The front door opened, and Jones came out to greet us. He was dressed more casually today, but was still magazine cover material in tan linen slacks and a subdued print shirt.
I felt frumpy in my usual jeans, T shirt and Huarache sandals. I noticed that the polish on my toenails was flaking off and completely missing on a few of my nails. I was thankful it was a pale color. I made a mental note to remove it completely when I got home.
I glanced at Thulu. He tended to wear polo shirts and chinos, so he fit in better than I did.
Jones came forward, smiling, with his hand outstretched to me. I hesitated, but shook his hand briefly. It was warm and firm. The thought crossed my mind that I hadn't been cursed or possessed in the brief contact. Not that I thought I would be, but still, I was uncomfortable around Jones. I simply didn't understand how everyone else seemed to be so at ease. Not even Thulu seemed to have a problem with Jones. That still annoyed me.
“Please come in. I thought we would sit on the back deck today.” Like we'd been there before. Like we were old friends. He's a daemon, I reminded myself. Of course he's smooth. I refused to allow myself to be seduced to the dark side. Even if he had cookies. Even if Thulu and everyone else liked him. I practiced glaring at him some more. It helped – a little.
I decided to wait until we were settled before beginning my interrogation. See? I could be polite too. We went down a hallway, past gorgeous rooms, to the back of the house. We entered a room that was all windows on two sides. We went through glass French doors to a deck, where white wrought iron furniture was arranged in several groupings. The view of the ocean was spectacular.
I breathed deeply. I've always loved the ocean. In college, Thulu and I had several places where we would spend hours sitting, talking. I had one, though, that was all mine. This house gave me that same feeling I'd had in my secret place.
Jones led us to a table near the rail. A pale blue patio umbrella shaded the linen tablecloth.
“I thought you might not mind some light snacks. My chef is excellent, and I think you may enjoy some of his creations.”
The presentation was gorgeous. What can I say? Everything Jones did was done with style and grace. It was quite annoying. I had a thing about not eating with people I disliked. It's a breaking bread thing, and I'm not sure where or when I picked it up. I debated filling a plate and moving to one of the other tables. But even I would not be so rude. I would, however, be honest.
“I don't like you.” I said this straight to his face. He had pulled out a heavily padded chair for me. He stood behind it and looked at me seriously, listening. He nodded in acknowledgment
“I don't trust you. I'm not like the others. I'm having a hard time getting passed the fact that you kill humans whenever it suits you.” Another nod.
“I want answers to questions. I want to solve the cases we have on our plate now.” I snuck a glance at Thulu. We hadn't discussed this, but now that I was here, it seemed the obvious path. Thulu gave a slow nod. One of the things I loved about my husband was his complete support, even if he didn't know where I was going.
“We have the cup. We're prepared to exchange that for the resolutions to our other cases. Once those are solved, we will take your case. For now, I will consider you a client, but not our top priority.”
I turned and sat in the chair Jones held for me.
“Thank you for lunch. It looks fabulous and I'm starving. Are these tuna sushi?” I allowed Jones to slide in my chair.
He and Thulu exchanged looks, maybe even smiles, as they nodded and seated themselves on either side of me.
“One of the things I like best about you, La Fi, is your honesty. I find myself in a rather unique position. I will be honest with you, as well. I've met many people over my millennia of existence. Some I really liked, admired, or enjoyed for various reasons. However, you and Thulu intrigue me. Perhaps because your gifts allow you to see me for who I really am.”
I wondered if we really did, but didn’t interrupt.
“For the first time in a very long while, I have met people with whom I would like to be friends. I will do my best to not engage in behavior which will make you unhappy for the duration of our partnership. I hope this will satisfy you?” He raised his eyebrows at me, then Thulu.
“Does that translate to you will stop killing people?”
Jones gave me a smile. “It translates to I will try my best to avoid taking lives. I cannot promise I will not, but I will do everything possible to avoid it. I keep trying to tell you, daemons are not human and our values are not yours. I will however, do my best. As to your fee, I will pay double what you usually receive, plus a finder's bonus for every item and a completion bonus once we have closed the portal itself.”
I looked at the wealth around me. “And they say crime doesn't pay.”
Jones laughed, genuinely delighted, it seemed. “Oh, my dear La Fi, you are priceless. Do you really think the small organization Jones has could pay for all this? That is simply a – hobby.” He looked around, as I had. “This is the result of centuries of accumulated wealth. Passed down to myself from – myself, of course.”
“You said you'd like to be our friend. Why would you want to?” Thulu asked. “I mean, we're practically children to you. And we're usually happy, so not the snack you probably like.”
“No, not a snack at all, I'm afraid.” Jones shook his head in mock sadness. “Few humans have known my true nature. Usually those who did know, have been – enthralled or enslaved by me. You and La Fi are the first humans in a very long time who know my nature and do not seem to be frightened by it. In fact, La Fi seems to be singularly unimpressed by it.” He gave me a smile. “It might be nice to have friends.” He gave us each a measuring look.
I returned the look, and then it happened. Deep and dark, his eyes held mine. I felt his true power really hit me for the first time. This creature was so ancient he was beyond ancient. He was far more powerful than anything I'd ever met. I'd told him off, as if he really were Tyler Jones. I came in with my lists and demands, and he graciously acquiesced to them, when I'm sure he could have easily killed me.
Part of me detested him for being a killer. Part of me was in awe at something that had lived through so many centuries. Part of me was beginning to be intrigued by him, too. So far, he had not lost his temper with me, and I'd given him ample provocation, I'm sure.
I'd told the truth: I didn't like him. I had immediately known him for what he was, even though I hadn't known what that meant. Seeing this ancient being hidden deep in his eyes, maybe, just maybe, I could respect him – as I would respect any dangerous animal that was supposedly tamed. Knowing though, that for all his charm and sweet manners, he would never be tamed. How had I missed just how powerful and dangerous he could be? And why wasn't I afraid? I would definitely be having a chat with Thulu later on.
Jones nodded, almost as if he knew what was going through my mind. He looked at Thulu. “I find you both refreshing.”
I gave Jones my first real smile, an acknowledgment of what he was. He nodded again, an acceptance of our truce. Well, hell, he really was hard to dislike for very long.
He paused and gave a glance at the table. “And now shall we have lunch? Raoul's meals really should not be left to sit.”
Jones flipped open his linen napkin. I admired the bird mine had been folded into before I followed suit. I helped mys
elf to the items in front of me. We spent a pleasant time passing around plates, sampling different dishes and several light wines.
It was one of the best meals I've ever had. A pretty brunette, Melissa, acted as our server and also cleared away plates as we finished with them. Jones was polite to her, thanking her each time she brought a dish or cleared one away. She seemed quite comfortable and completely at ease in his presence.
Jones told stories from his past “lives” and was his usual charming, entertaining self. The three of us laughed often, and I found myself enjoying the afternoon. I wondered if I'd broken my vow to not be seduced to the dark side. I gave a mental shrug. Well, he had offered more than cookies.
Chapter 17
After lunch had been cleared away by the smiling Melissa, I brought out my tablet. I looked at it hesitantly, but my better nature took control. I gave Jones a steady look. He leaned back in his chair, crossed one leg over the other and clasped his hands around his raised knee.
I decided to start with Emily Rodriguez.
“Emily would like for her body to be found and for people to acknowledge she exist
“La Fi, Thulu, I am afraid I am going to disappoint you right away. I cannot give you Emily's body. I cannot give you any of the bodies.” He seemed genuinely sorry. I was genuinely irritated.
“And why is that?” Thulu's tone was much more reasonable than mine would have been.
“Because they no longer exist.”
Thulu and I exchanged a look.
“You see, one of my talents is opening portals. I can open them to many different worlds. It is easy enough for me to open a portal and remove – well whatever I want to. However, retrieval is more difficult. I often use dead worlds for disposal.”
He thought for a moment. “I could have a memorial service for Emily, if that would appease her.”
I frowned. “I'll ask her.” I made a note. “Jane's locket?”
It was Jones's turn to frown. He turned and motioned to the door where Melissa had lingered out of sight. She came a few steps onto the patio. “Please ask Al to join us.”
She left briefly, returning with a very nervous man in his late twenties.
“Al was with me when we went to the Andrews home. It was his first – and last – chance to accompany me in my work.” Jones’s voice was soft, non-threatening. Al was visibly shaking.
“Please explain to Thulu and La Fi what happened, Al.”
Al stared at us with as much fear as he had Jones – when he dared to raise his eyes from the patio flagstones. He made several false starts, but nothing came out. He swallowed several more times and flinched as Jones stood up.
“If you will excuse me a moment, I will let you continue this, while I attend to another matter.” He moved across the patio and into a different set of doors from the ones we had come through.
Al didn't exactly relax with Jones gone, but he seemed to breathe a bit easier.
Thulu took over. His voice was warm and encouraging. “Please continue, Al. We're trying to find the locket, as it was a present for the lady's granddaughter.” The lightest touch of steel came into his voice. “You know, the lady you all killed?”
I wasn't sure how he managed it, but Al became even whiter. He was already losing his hair and thin strands were plastered to his scalp with sweat. He was thin, but didn't seem to have the junky thinness I had expected from Jones's thugs.
“I didn't do it.”
“Oh no,” Thulu said with a smile, “we know you didn't, but you did take the locket, correct?”
“Mr. Jones said it was junk. I showed it to him, thought it might be the treasure he was looking for.” He stopped with a theatrical gasp and clapped his hand to his mouth.
Thulu nodded. “Yes, we know about the treasure. You are to tell us everything about the locket, please, Al.”
Al was only minimally reassured by this. He hesitantly looked over his shoulder at the door where Jones had disappeared, but then he continued. “Well, we was going through everything. Mr. Jones said there was a treasure somewheres, and we was to bring him anything that looked like it was nice. He killed that old woman. Then he sat downstairs while we brought him stuff. He said we was not to mess up anything.”
Al hesitated.
“He also told you not to take anything, didn't he?” Thulu's voice had a firm edge to it, but he was guessing.
Al nodded. “Yeah, but it was new. In a little bag still, in the table drawer. I didn't think anyone else would know it had been there.”
Time to move this along. "So you took the locket, then what?” I let my irritation show a tiny bit.
Al cut his eyes from Thulu to me.
“I took it to a pawn shop. Buddy of mine works there. He gave me fifty bucks for it. Said it was no good 'cause it had writing in it.” Jane had paid close to a thousand dollars for the custom designed locket.
“Mr. Jones made me go back to get it. I still don't know how he found out, but he did. My buddy was there, but he said the locket was gone. He'd already sold it. Said it was lucky, some dude came in the day before to buy a rifle and saw the locket and bought it instead. He said the dude paid big bucks for it and didn't mind the writing cause his kid was named Cara and she just won some pageant or something.”
“How much is big bucks?” Thulu asked.
“Three hundred bucks. I told my bud he should give me some of that, but he told me to go to hell.”
Lovely people, just lovely.
“Did you get the buyer's name?” I asked.
“Who?”
I would have to chat with Jones on the criteria he used to hire his gang members. This guy just didn't mesh with my current picture of Jones. It was more in keeping with my original street thug idea.
“The man who bought the locket. Did you get his name?”
“Oh, that guy. No, he paid cash.”
Of course he did. He had to have known it was stolen and took it while he could.
“What kind of pageant?” Thulu wasn't done.
“Huh? Oh, um, I don't know. He just said a pageant.”
Wonderful, some girl, named Cara, somewhere, maybe in San Francisco, maybe not, had won some kind of pageant. Well, Thulu had worked with less and succeeded. Maybe the pageant had been big enough to make the paper or Internet. We didn't do it as often, but old-fashioned detective work was well within our capabilities.
“What's your buddy's name?”
Jones stepped back onto the patio. He answered softly, “His name is Ralph, but he didn't have much to add. Just a dead end.”
I looked at him sharply as he crossed back to the table and reclaimed his seat.
“Not that kind of dead end.” His eyes twinkled. “He is alive and well.” He glanced at Al. “You may return to the other room and continue to wait, Al.”
This didn't seem to make Al all that happy, but staying didn't appear to be high on his list either. He turned at the door. “I hope you find your locket. I'm sorry I took it.”
I was surprised at this bit of grace and suddenly saw why Jones had given him a chance.
I nodded politely and thanked him.
“I have my people searching for pageants and other events, but so far we have not turned up anything helpful.” Jones tone was neutral.
I'd been making notes and deleted the one to follow up on the pawn shop. Thulu leaned over.
“I want 'Jane' to email the jeweler who made the piece. Let's get a copy of the receipt and a picture of the locket. I'm sure the designer would keep at least one for their portfolio.” I added that note in.
“Okay, Jones, I know you have Jenna's parents, so you can help on that one for sure.”
He looked at me thoughtfully. “Actually, I have been thinking that you may be more help there than I would.”
I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Can you communicate with someone in a coma?”
Interesting idea. “I don't know, to be honest. I never tried it. I take it you want me to talk to M
att. What's wrong with him? Did the blow to the head cause permanent damage?”
“My specialist says no and he is one of the best.” He paused. “You do realize it is in my best interest for Matt to be able to communicate. I cannot proceed without the dagger, and only he knows where it is.”
“So, basically you don't care if he regains consciousness, as long you can find out where that dagger is?” I shook my head and threw a disgusted glance at Thulu. Just when I thought I might get over my aversion.
“I did not say that, La Fi. Although how happy will the man be to wake to find his child dead –”
“He still has his wife, who you are also keeping unconscious. That can't be healthy for her.”
“La Fi, none of this is ideal. Yes, if you can get Mason to awaken, that would be fine.”
“I'm so glad that meets with your approval.” My sarcasm was heavy.
Jones sighed. “I will do my best to see that the Masons are cared for.”
“Do you plan on admitting you killed their child?”
Jones looked at me as if I had sprouted tentacles from my forehead.
“Of course not. Besides, once again, there is no body. I will affect a rescue of them.”
“Lovely. So they can be grateful to you for saving them from – you. When it's your fault this whole thing happened?”
“It is not my fault. It is the Light Ones' fault. If they had stayed where they were, things would have been fine.”
I crossed my arms and glared at him. He stared at me, dark eyes unfathomable. He looked at Thulu, then back at me.
“Very well, some of it is my fault.”
I smiled grimly. “See? Owning responsibility is the first step to redemption.”
“Do not push your luck, La Fi.”
I bit my lip. “The Masons?”
“Yes, I think you should try contacting Matt. It is worth a try anyway.”
“Agreed. I may want to bring in a friend, though.” I gave Thulu a significant look and he nodded. He knew exactly who I meant. He picked up my tablet to look at the list.
