by Tara Brown
“So you will take a bit of my blood and you will work on the elixir my father was trying to perfect? It will cure me?” She asked again watching his eyes intently.
He nodded not flashing even a slight hesitation, “Precisely.”
“Your meal my dear girl.” Roland interrupted carrying the tray to her lap.
“I will see myself out Roland,” Marcus winked at her walking from the room.
She looked at the tray and then Roland, “How did you know?”
He chuckled, “Oh trust me, your father hasn’t cooked a meal in the seventy-five years he and I have known one another. I made this for you as a small girl.”
She looked at the chocolate chip pancakes with happy and angry faces and frowned, “Why don’t I remember you?”
“We were never to meet you and I.”
“Why?”
He sighed, “Can't we just leave it at that?”
She nodded, “For now.”
She watched as he left as silently as he entered, as always.
She looked at the phone beside her bed and called out to him, “Roland wait, I want to call that police officer.”
After a second he poked his aged face back in, “The young officer from the hospital, his name was Andrew Paulson?”
She nodded, “Yes.”
He nodded leaving again and shouted at her from the hall, “I will find the number and arrange for him to come right away.”
"No I want to call. Please."
She picked at her angry faced pancake, remembering how she had always eaten it first. She always wanted the anger gone first. It had always made her parents laugh. She remembered the pancake but never her parents making them, they just brought them in for her. She thought back at all the meals, realizing every meal was that way. She wondered what Roland could have done in his past that would warrant treatment such as he had endured. He had never eaten with her family, she had never even seen him until he found her in the forest.
The pancake tasted perfect, she savored the memory they brought. She remembered her parent's faces, together they had seemed happy. She remembered her mother’s face. So beautiful. Raven black hair, stark white skin with subtle freckles, grey eyes and a bow mouth. She was a tiny woman, shorter than Hanna. Her mother had looked plain upon first sight but when she smiled it was as if her heart shaped face exploded beauty. Her perfectly straight teeth glistened brightly, her eyes sparkled, her lips remained full even in a smile. Her dark eyebrows framed her expressive eyes, as if a painter had brushed them on to ensure every face she made was enhanced.
She looked at the huge mirror at her bureau wishing she could see something of her mother in herself. Her thick strawberry blond hair was her father's, her thin upper lip that vanished when she smiled was her father's, her honey brown eyes surrounded by thick black lashes were her father's and her thin face was also her father's. She looked at herself seeing nothing but her father.
She closed her eyes trying to remember what her mother had looked like right before the accident. She had promised herself she would never forget her face. It had grown harder to remember it exactly, as the features faded with the time.
She remembered her father before he’d grown sick, she remembered him standing tall and proud smiling at her when she had graduated. He smiled and yet somehow his face was still hollow and distant.
Suddenly her memory of him had become altered, she saw a something in his eyes she hadn’t seen before, regret, love, and fear. She could see it on his face as plain as the nose on her face, which was also his.
Tears welled in her eyes, realizing he had loved her all along, he had wanted to be with her. He chose her aunt and uncle to protect her and keep her out of harms way. He sacrificed the relationship they might have had to ensure she would always be safe and away from the dangers he possessed.
Lastly she recalled Rebecca, she felt relief seeing her friends face. She knew Rebecca had died as a result of being her friend but at least she knew it hadn’t been her fault. She breathed a freeing sigh thinking of her friend until she remembered the cookies, her aunt had made them for her. Her aunt hadn’t thought Rebecca would come home with her. Her aunt hadn’t been home, they ate the cookies from the plate. They were laughing about the recent Saturday Night Live skit, before getting in Rebecca's car to go for their Starbucks. She realized they had already ingested the poison when they had gone for coffee.
“The number.” She opened her eyes to Roland's smiling face and a piece of paper in his hand.
“Thank you.”
He nodded regally and left the room ever silent.
She picked up the phone, taking a breath trying to figure out her story.
Chapter Six: In that a gun in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?
“The young officer is in the front room.” Roland spoke again sneaking up on her.
She smiled, “How do you do it?”
He smiled, “I have no idea what you are referring to but I will let the young man know you are coming down.” He was gone again making no sounds, his feet never scuffed or shuffled or made a single step noise on the hard woods.
She looked at herself smiling, her afternoons reflection seemed to increase the amount of pride she felt seeing her father's face in her own. The navy v-neck sweater and black skirt offset her red hair. Her pale skin and slight amount of freckles seemed to glow in the color. The leather knee-high wedge boots fit like a glove as if they had been made for her huge size nine feet. She even loved the argyle knee socks he had left her in the bundle. She tried not to think about the fact he had also picked out her under garments. She imagined it was equally as painful for him.
Her straight thick hair looked shiny from the amazing products Roland always seemed to supply the house with. She wondered if he hired a personal shopper or if he honestly knew what Alterna’s Bamboo Collection for shiny hair really was. She loved the silky feel of her hair but had been stunned by the price of the small bottle.
She left the room wondering how the conversation would go, once the young police officer knew the truth about her friend's disappearance.
Hanna smiled seeing Officer Paulson in the front room, admiring her father's painting above the mantle of the lit fireplace. The room was warm and inviting with over sized dark leather furniture and over sized rubber wood coffee tables. Her father had actually picked the stone around the fireplace from a river, he hand selected every stone. Since learning so many of his hidden truths she pondered what year it had been exactly he had selected the stones? She had assumed he had bought the house when he had brought her there, only months prior. Seeing the way Roland fit into every nook and cranny made her more convinced it was possible her father had built the house.
“Good evening Officer, thank you for coming.”
He turned taking her breath away. His piercing blue eyes sought the truth out, speaking directly to her soul. He smiled preventing her breath from returning completely.
“Hanna it's so nice to see you again. How are you?” His tone was genuine as were his eyes.
She shrugged, “Getting better I guess, I need to tell you something.”
She pointed to the large couch, “Please take a seat Officer Paulson.”
“Thanks and it's Andy. So you live here then?”
He sat next to her instead of across the sofa. She smiled sweetly batting her eyes lashes, “My parents are both dead.”
He nodded, “Yes I’d heard of the passing of your father recently.” His eyes grew full of concern, “I’m so sorry. You're so young to be an orphan.”
She nodded, “Thanks, anyway when my father died he left me some family secrets. Secrets I hadn’t been made aware of until recently.”
His eyebrow raised, “Secrets?”
She nodded, “Yes.” She treaded very carefully around him knowing her heart wanted to tell him the entirety of the tale, “My mother died in an accident and so my devastated father felt it would be better if I were raised by my aunt and uncle. His life s
tyle never suited a child. They have raised me for eleven years.”
He followed with nods.
“Anyway it turns out my aunt and uncle have enjoyed certain aspects of my being there more than others.”
His brow furrowed, “What aspects?”
She bit her lip, “As I’m sure you noticed this house is nice, my fathers things are all very nice. He had a lot of money, he compensated them to ensure I never went without.”
He frowned, “He paid them to take care of you.”
She nodded, “I didn’t know about this. I was only informed after his death. I turned eighteen and apparently was then given an enormous amount of money in trust. No one ever told me about the money.”
He grimaced seeing where it was all going, “Are they your next of kin?”
She nodded biting her lip again.
He took a deep breath, “This changes everything.”
“I thought it might.”
He bit his lip, making her focus on his mouth, he had a beautiful mouth. She couldn’t deny the fact she was insanely attracted to him.
“So have any memories come back then?”
She nodded, “Yup, I remember we went to my aunts first then Starbucks. We ate cookies at her house, she had left them for me on a plate. We ate them and then went to Starbucks. I remember telling Rebecca I wanted to go home and I had my coffee in my hand. My stomach was starting to hurt.”
“She poisoned you both with cyanide then?” He looked confused at her still sitting beside him and not dead like her best friend.
She shrugged, “I must have gotten sick, at any rate I don’t remember anything after the car ride. She must have stopped the car by the woods and I got sick there. Then whatever happened to us happened there.”
He looked very gravely at her, “This is serious Hanna.”
“I know, I went back to get proof.”
He looked lost again, “I’m not following you.”
“I snuck into my aunt and uncles back yard. I watched in the kitchen window as they ground something white up. Then they stirred it into the sugar canister on the counter. My aunt told my uncle not to eat it and to tell me how he had switched to honey in his coffee and tea. She was reading a letter and they started talking about my money. It was awful. She was saying I would take it all with me when I left. She said they deserved the money.”
He looked disgusted, “What happened then?”
“I got very upset and ran into the woods. I ran really far and started to feel sick again. I called Roland and he came and got me. I've been here since.”
He shook his head, “I see so many bad things everyday but this takes at least one cake. Why would she poison your cookies with cyanide?”
She looked up at him through her lashes, “How do you know it was cyanide?”
He sighed, “It was what we found inside Rebecca, she died of cyanide poisoning. We thought she had been around something radioactive at first. After the autopsy we found out what it was.”
“How could we eat that and not know?”
“Baking is a good place to disguise it. It’s a type of poison I wouldn’t have thought of, it comes from apple seeds.”
“That’s ridiculous apple seeds aren’t poisonous.”
“Oh yes my dear they are highly poisonous. But processing them can be a bother.” Roland laughed as he brought the tea tray into the room.
“You know how?” She asked raising an eyebrow at the old man.
He nodded, “I’ve read a lot of mystery novels in my many years dear girl, the inside of the seed is highly poisonous. One must split it and remove the guts of the seed then grind that very fine. I've never heard of it used in baking I will say.”
She looked at Andy who smirked, “I am almost wondering where you were that night Roland.”
Roland laughed, “Oh officer Paulson you flatter me, I don’t have the energy for such adventures.” He turned to leave the room but turned back and smiled mischievously, “Not anymore anyway.”
Hanna laughed nervously wondering about the old man more than she cared to acknowledge.
Andy laughed, “Well I have to say we have enough for a warrant.” His eyes turned back to Hanna, “Thanks so much for calling.”
She nodded, “I feel so guilty that Rebecca died because of me.”
He put a hand on hers covering it completely, “You can't take the blame for something you had nothing to do with. They made the choice and they committed the crime. You were a victim as much as she was.”
She tried to focus on his hand and not the tears threatening to spring from her eyes.
His eyes grew puzzled again, “Where were you for all those weeks then if you didn’t end up like your friend?”
She frowned fighting her bodies want to tell the truth, “No clue but where ever it was I almost hope I don’t remember.”
He nodded, “Yeah we found GHB in your system, that doesn’t bode well for your missing time.”
“Yeah my thinking too. Maybe its better I don’t remember anything.”
He looked at her putting his hand through her hair and tucking it behind her ear. She shivered against the feel of his warm hand, as it brushed against her face, “I feel anger and disgust when I think about you missing for all those weeks. Scared and alone with strangers or worse your crazy aunt and uncle.”
His blue eyes seemed to grow in color and intensity.
“I feel scared too.” She wanted to stop his fears, she wanted to tell him the truth.
“I never want you to be afraid again.” He leaned in brushing his lips against hers softly. He pulled back suddenly, “Oh my god I’m so sorry. That was so inappropriate.”
She shook her head, touching his face marveling at how beautiful he was, “No it wasn’t. Please don’t be sorry.”
He smiled lifting one side of his mouth slightly, “I’m not sorry I kissed you I just can't do it again until I’m not working your case, its not right.” He looked down at her, “Can I get a rain check for this exact moment?”
She nodded biting her lip, wanting to kiss him again. She didn’t want the light feathery kiss, she wanted everything she could tell he was capable of.
“I will be here the minute this is over and it's not a conflict of interest.” He stood from the couch creating a space of cold air between them, “Like the second its over. But I've got to go. Now.”
She laughed, “Goodnight.”
He waved, “I will call you when the warrant has been executed.”
She watched him leave feeling a burning desire to chase after him. She picked up the throw pillow beside her, hugging it to her body grinning.
“It can't ever be more than flirtation love.”
She turned sharply frowning at Marcus, “What do you know of anything beyond flirtation, you're the devil, I know it.”
He laughed, his booming voice echoed throughout the room.
She frowned at him wanting to throw the pillow, “I get now why my father would want to be able to change on demand, moments like these. What are you doing in my house? Does Roland know you're here?”
He cleared his throat as he sat on the couch next to her. He scent made her want to strip naked and rub up against him, “Contrary to popular belief love I have never driven your father to wish for a change. He and I got along in perfect harmony. I let myself in, as I always have.”
She looked at his blue black eyes regretting it instantly, he had a hold on her the moment she saw the color, “Its those. They make me want you.” She pointed at his eyes shuddering as she forced her face to turn away.
He snuggled against her, “You're quite the little tease Hanna.”
She pushed away from him but his arms encased her, pulling her in, “It can't ever be with the police officer because you can't control yourself. Young officer Paulson would never get out of harms way fast enough.”
Struggling to get free she looked at his arm beside her face. She bit as hard as she could into his bicep. Something very odd occurred, no
t what she expected, he moaned. She listened to him moan realizing she loved the feel of his strong muscled arm in her teeth. She let go pulling back. She didn’t know what to say. She closed her mouth and looked at the other wall as he started to laugh.
“You're my favorite monster Hanna. Of all the monsters in all the world you're my favorite. You're feisty and spicy but deep down in a place you don't let anyone see, you're sweet too.
She grimaced, “I could never be sweet to you.”
He laughed harder, “I would never want you to be sweet to me,” he kissed her cheek roughly, “I like spice better than sweet.”
Feeling anxious about being so close to him she changed the subject, “How many monsters are there?”
He tilted his head, “Many.”
She rolled her eyes pulling back as he slowly let her go, “So vampires and werewolves and trolls exist?”
He raised an eyebrow not answering her. He examined her carefully making her more nervous.
“What about mermaids?”
He nodded, “Yes its all true. Do you really believe there is a human gifted enough in imagination that they could create beings so amazingly accurate in strength and weakness?”
She nodded, “Yes, Frankenstein.”
“It happened.”
Disbelief crossed her brow, “What, no not Frankenstein.”
“Yes Frankenstein and yes Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde obviously. I find it hilarious you turn into a monster and doubt the existence of other monsters." He pointed to her and continued, "And yes count Dracula and yes the Mummy.” He picked up a piece of her hair smelling it, “You smell delicious for such a naughty beast.”
She snatched her hair back, “You are a pervert. How old are you anyway?”
He shrugged, “What does time matter to me? Only the dying considers time.”
She sat for a moment thinking about other questions he might answer if she let him sit so near enjoying himself, not that she minded much.
“Did my aunt and uncle drug me?”
He rolled his eyes looking bored, “You know they did.”
