The Severed Thread (14 page)

“I understand your concern,” I sympathized, nodding.  “But it isn’t like a regular party.  We can make it as somber as you like.”  Just then I got the greatest idea.  “On the other hand, Jason loved a good party.  Aren’t you having a quartet?”

“Yes,” she said slowly, obviously uncertain where I was going with the question.  “Gracie organized it.”

“Maybe they could play some Jimmy Buffett?  An instrumental version of ‘Cheeseburger in Paradise’ sounds perfect.  Jason would love the contradiction in it all,” I said with a laugh.  “Do you think dad would notice?”

“Yes,” she huffed.  “He would definitely notice.  So don’t you even think about it.”

“It might be fitting though,” Gracie interjected laughing now too.  “Quentin would turn absolutely purple in outrage.”  Yeah, and he would get that little tick in his right eye.

By late afternoon we had the rest of the menu finalized, the remaining funeral details wrapped up and the guest list for the private reception at the house settled so that Thomas would know who to allow through the gates.  I was exhausted and it was time I headed home.  I felt a little guilty about not stopping at the office first but this evenings meeting with McCallister was preying on my mind.  A good meditation session seemed more prudent that squeezing in a couple of hours at the office.  

I listened to my messages when I got to the car.  There was a one from Donald, the sound of his smooth baritone broadcast clearly over the car’s speakers.

“Hi Abigail, it’s Donald,” he began.  “Ever since you left last night I have been thinking about Jason and going over and over in my head why someone would want to kill him.  It might not be important but I did remember something that seemed a little odd.”  I tensed in anticipation as he continued.

“I’m not sure why I did not think of it yesterday but the last time we spoke Jason mentioned that he had met up with Harvey Keltan.” 
Harvey Keltan?
  What was he doing with that cretin?

“I guess that’s not odd in and of itself but I got the feeling that it was not just a onetime, chance encounter.  It sounded as if he was hanging out with the guy.”  Donald seemed a little bemused and disgusted at the same time.  “Harvey is an ass.  I know I don’t have to tell you that.  Anyway, I remember being really surprised that Jason would give him the time of day.  Apart from being out of character, I didn’t think anything sinister about it at the time.  But now I’m not so sure,” he paused.  “Anyway, I hope this helps.”

Harvey Keltan
.
  Jason had mentioned him to me a couple of weeks ago too.  I had completely forgotten about that.  I couldn’t quite see how he figured into all this.  He did work for the port authority but not at Tioga, so it didn’t seem like much of a connection. 

On the other hand I had the vague sense that I saw him somewhere other than the coffee shop recently but I couldn’t put my finger on where exactly. 

I quickly made two calls. The first one was to Samantha.

“Hi Abigail. What’s up?”

“Can you try to track down any information on Harvey Keltan?  Sal might know something.”

“Harvey Keltan?  Why do we…?” Samantha started to ask.  I could almost feel the precise moment when comprehension dawned.  “Do you think he has something to do with the mess with Jason?

“I don’t know,” I admitted.  “I just listened to a message that Donald left me.  He said he forgot that Jason mentioned meeting up with Harvey.”

“What exactly are we trying to find out?” 
Good question.

“I’m not sure exactly,” I said in frustration.  “But we all know Harvey was not someone Jason would normally hang out with so he had to be meeting with him for some reason.  He also might have the contacts that Jason needed to do the container switch.”

“I’m not a hacker, but I know one.  It might be interesting to take a peek at his financials.”  My eyebrows shot nearly to my hairline.  Since when did Samantha make the acquaintance of a hacker?

“You know a hacker? 
For real?
” 

“I do!”  She was laughing.  “As crazy as that sounds.”

“Why don’t you see if Sal is willing to tap into the rumor mill a bit and see what he can find?”  I suggested.  “If that does not pan out, it would be nice to know something about his finances.  Any idea what the going rate is for hacking a person’s financial records?”

“No but I can find out,” she chuckled.  “First I will call Sal though.  I think we should also talk to Corbin.  See if he has anyone that might know if Harvey has had any
official
trouble lately.”

“Corbin was next on my list to call anyway.  I think I may need a lawyer before all this is over and I’m not sure I want to leave my defense up to Joshua Levy.”

“Probably a good plan.”

We hung up with promises to contact each other when we have an update.  I immediately put through a call to Corbin on his cell.  I needed to ask him about being my legal counsel in case I was interviewed again by the Interspecies Bureau.  By the fourth ring, I knew I was going to be patched into voice mail. 

“Hello, you have reached Corbin Greenbranch.  I’m unavailable to take your call at the moment.  Please leave a message and I will call you back as soon as possible.”

“Hey Corbin, it’s me.”  No need to explain who
me
was.  “I think, no I know, that I need your help with something.  Can you call me when you get a chance?”  I really needed to get this sorted out.  I should have talked to him about this sooner but with all the other craziness going on I kept getting sidetracked.  Hopefully he would call back soon.

Chapter 13

I arrived at the Philadelphia Clan Home at precisely six forty-two, five minutes early for my appointment.  The werewolf working the gate was expecting me and I was ushered through without incident.  I was directed to park in a large courtyard which was flanked by a carriage house that appeared to be functioning as a multi-car garage, a restored eighteenth century barn and the main residence.  I got out of the car admiring how beautiful it was here.

The feel of the estate, located in Radnor Township on 17 grassy acres adjacent to a huge tract of conservancy land, was not what I had expected. The open space gave the property a sense of being very isolated even though it was only a stone’s throw from the city.  I had read somewhere that the main house contained eight bedrooms plus two additional bedrooms in the guest house.  I imagined there were also staff quarters located here someplace. 

The casual charm of the place was also unexpected.  I had been prepared for a more imposing residence to keep in sync with McCallister’s public image.  But the stone was a rich warm color and the entire location had a countrified feel. 

“Beautiful evening, is it not?”

“Oh,” I squeaked in surprise, turning to see Lok standing just behind me in the twilight.  I was not pleased that I had allowed a vampire to sneak up on me. 
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
  That kind of idiocy was going to get me killed.

“My apologies Ms. Lassiter,” he said, inclining his head.  I didn’t miss the smirk on his face though.  The apology was purely lip service since he had obviously enjoyed giving me a scare.  “The gate attendant informed us that you had arrived and the Master sent me to escort you inside.”

“Escort away.”  I went for flippant in a futile attempt to cover my embarrassment.  He gave me a knowing smile as he swept his arm towards the house in invitation. 

I followed Lok inside, which surprisingly, was as welcoming as its exterior.  The décor was unashamedly masculine, featuring an abundance of deeply hued woodwork and casually elegant furnishings.   It all blended together to create a warm, comforting atmosphere.  The wood wainscoting was a testament of true craftsmanship in a day and age of mass produced trim and painted faux wood.  The burnished glow of the mill work was simply beautiful.  Elves loved to surround themselves with natural materials.  Anything synthetic was uncomfortable, unnatural.  Here, I had yet to encounter any synthetics.  I had expected something different, something colder.  

I was led down a paneled hall to a set of double pocket doors, again of the same beautiful wood.  We passed through the doorway into a room bordered by a stunning fireplace on one side and a wall of windows looking out into the deepening night on the other.

“Please, have a seat Ms. Lassiter.”  He indicated a set of comfortable looking chairs by the fireplace.  “The Master will join you momentarily.”

“Thank you,” I murmured in response.  Full blown nervous tension had me in its grip even though the house seemed to be designed to put a person at ease.  The contradictions that were Liam McCallister kept me a little off balance.  Somehow I was sure not many outside his inner circle had been invited here to this sanctuary.  I was disconcerted to think what that might mean.  Unable to settle mind or body I started perusing the pictures lining a row of shelves along one wall in an effort to distract myself.  I turned quickly at a soft scuttling sound behind me expecting to see McCallister.   Instead I was confronted by a towheaded waif who appeared to be about seven or eight years old.  She seemed as surprised to see me as I was to see her.

“Who are you?” she asked, twisting one of her pigtails around a finger.  She was adorable standing there gripping a black stuffed bunny while wearing pajama’s that had little frogs embroidered on the cuffs and hem.

“I’m Abigail,” I said with a smile.  “Who are you?”

“I’m Penelope but everyone calls me Penny,” she informed me before pausing to think for a moment.   “Well, everyone except Uncle Liam.  He insists on calling me Penelope.  It’s really annoying.”

“I’m sure it is,” I said, stifling a laugh.  There was nothing like the refreshingly blunt honesty of children.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she moved further into the room, intent on giving me a thorough inspection.  “You have pretty hair.  It’s the same color as mine.”

“Thank you.  You have pretty hair too,” I told her.  “And I love your bunny.  Bunnies are my favorite.”

“Yeah, Midnight is nice,” she said as she looked at the stuffed bunny, “but
I
really love horses.  Uncle Liam just bought me a new mare.  She is fourteen hands tall.  Much more suitable than the pony I was riding.  I’m seven after all, and everyone knows that ponies are for babies.” 

I had the uncanny sensation that I was talking to a blonde, seven year old Eloise.  It was apparent to this elf that little Penny was a handful.  I imagined she gave the clan master a run for his money.  The thought made me smile, which in turn caused a quizzical expression to cross her face.

“You’re not a vampire,” she blurted, staring at my mouth.  Everything she was thinking seemed to be coming out of her mouth at the precise moment she thought it.

“You are very astute for someone who is seven.”  I crouched so we were eye level and reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.  “You are absolutely correct.  I’m not a vampire, I’m an elf.”

“I have never met an elf before,” she confided with wide eyes.  “Do you have pointy ears?”

“They are a little pointy, see?”  I pulled back my hair to show her my subtly pointed ears.

“That is so cool,” she told me.  “I wish I had pointy ears.”

“Nah, you’ve got great ears,” I assured her with a wave of my hand.  “No need to change them.”  Switching the subject I asked, “Since you are in your pajamas, I assume you are headed off to bed soon.” 

“Not for another hour and a half.  I go to bed at eight-thirty.  I just had my bath early tonight because I got a little messy at the pond.  I really like to skip stones but I got too close to the edge and fell in,” she confided this last part in a whisper then looked over her shoulder.  “Don’t tell anybody though.   I’m not supposed to play by the pond and Miss Ann Marie will get into trouble.” 

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” I assured her with a conspiratorial smile. “But, if you are not supposed to play by the pond, you probably shouldn’t.  I’m sure there is a reason for the rule.”

“Uncle Liam says that I could get hurt because of the snapping turtles.  He thinks we humans are fragile.”  She looked a little skeptical on this last point.  “I tell him all the time that I’m not as fragile as he thinks.”

“I’m sure you are not,” I said with a smile.

“She’s not what?” McCallister said from the doorway before striding into the room and scooping up Penny.  She giggled gleefully in his arms.  The distraction lasted only a few seconds before she remembered something important.  Her eyes found mine warily.  She was obviously wondering if I was going to keep my promise about the pond incident.

“Penny was just telling me how she is not up past her bedtime,” I explained, rising to my feet.  “She does not go to bed until eight-thirty.”  That was exactly what she had told me, minus a few pertinent details.  I received a hundred megawatt smile from Penny before she turned back to McCallister and gave him a big hug.

“Did you know that she is an elf, Uncle Liam?” she asked him happily.  “And,” she paused dramatically, “she has pointy ears!”

“Yes, I did,” he said with a rumbling laugh before pinning me with a look.  “She has lovely pointed ears.”  I colored at the reminder of our encounter last evening when his breath whispered across said ear.

“Now, we need to get you off to supper, so I can talk with Ms. Lassiter.

“I thought her name was Abigail?

“It is, but you should call her Ms. Lassiter.”

“She told me to call her Abigail,” she reiterated stubbornly.  I had a feeling that the overabundance of structure that McCallister deemed appropriate was more than Penny liked.

“Nonetheless…” he began.

“I would prefer she called me Abigail,” I interrupted cautiously.  “If you don’t mind that is.  It
is
how I introduced myself to her.”

“As you wish,” he said somewhat stiffly.  Gone in a blink was the easygoing man of a moment ago.  I assumed he did not like to be contradicted, although this seemed such a small thing to get all uptight about.  “Lok,” he called out.  “Please find Ann Marie.”