The Severed Thread (8 page)

I was going to try very hard to keep Corbin on the fringes of this whole mess.  He was a lawyer, and while I trusted him to have my back, he didn’t need me dumping things on him that could compromise his ethics.   If I had to get Samantha involved to help save all our lives, so be it. 

 “Can we wait until we are in the car to talk about this?” I asked.

Corbin and Samantha exchanged an uneasy look but acquiesced to the request.  Not sure where the car was parked, I followed them on autopilot, trying to come up with something plausible about this evening’s events to tell my friends that would also not put them in the position of having to break any laws. 

 “Alright, now spill,” Samantha said as soon as the doors closed on her Volvo sedan.  I was in the front passenger seat, and Corbin was in the back leaning forward between the seats.

“I just want to go home,” I muttered leaning my head back against the head rest.  I knew I wasn’t going to be able to put them off but I really, really wanted to.

“That is
so
not happening without an explanation.”

“Alright,” I said in defeat.  “When I got home after my interview with the agents at the Interspecies Bureau, three of McCallister’s people were waiting in my house.  They invited me to a little meeting, at which attendance was not optional.”

“What did he want to talk about that couldn’t wait for a more appropriate time?” Samantha asked.  Yeah, good question.

“He thinks Jason took something that belonged to him, and now he wants it back.”  My words fell like a bomb in the car.  The shockwaves had my friends sitting with their mouths hanging open in stunned silence.

“Jason stole something from
Liam McCallister
?” Corbin asked incredulously.  Apparently I was not the only one that thought you would have to be bat-shit crazy to even consider it.

“That is what he tells me,” I replied dryly.

“And he asked you down here to talk about something Jason had taken? 
Today?
”  Samantha asked in confusion, and then gasped as something occurred to her.  “Did he kill Jason?” she whispered in horror.

“He denied it when I asked the same question,” I told them.  “He pointed out that daylight hours are not a great time for vamps to be out and about killing people.”  Not that McCallister would have ever used the derogatory slang, vamps.

“He could very easily have hired someone,” Corbin said.

“My thoughts exactly and,” I paused, “he had motive.”

“What did Jason take?” Samantha asked.

Here was where things got sticky. “I can’t tell you,” I said apologetically.

“Illegal?” Corbin asked.

“I don’t want to drag both of you into this if I can avoid it,” I sighed while running my hands through my hair.  It seemed like days ago that I took that quick shower before Joshua drove me to the Interspecies Bureau. 

“Okay,” Corbin said slowly.  “What did he want from
you
though?” he asked, wrinkling his brow in puzzlement.  “I can’t imagine that you were involved with anything illegal, and it seems odd that he would point out to you that he had a motive to kill Jason.”

“He’s holding me accountable for Jason’s debt,” I dropped the second bomb in less than two minutes.

“That is not fair!” Samantha burst out.  Corbin and I just gave each other a commiserating look.  We both knew from personal experience that politicians and criminals, many times indistinguishable from one another, very rarely cared about fair.

“How?” Corbin asked after a few moments. 

“How what?”

“How is he holding you accountable?”  Good question.  It didn’t surprise me that Corbin cut right to the meat of the problem.  He was always the astute one in our little threesome.  Being a defense attorney gave him insight into the criminal mind that others did not have.

“I need to either find the missing item, or help him obtain its replacement,” I answered carefully.

“Is he willing to take a monetary replacement?” Corbin asked, trying another avenue of options.

“I don’t have enough without my trust fund,” and we all knew that was five years out of reach.

“Do
we
have enough?’ Samantha asked making a little circle with her hand to indicate all three of us.

“I don’t think so,” I grimaced.  “I ‘m not even sure he would take it if we did.  He seems more concerned with recovering the item or an equivalent replacement.  There is also his reputation to consider.  He can’t let anyone get away with stealing from him, without some sort of punishment.”

“Jason is dead.  That seems like enough punishment to me,” Corbin mused in frustration.

“I agree, but since he asserts he did not dole out that particular punishment, he seems to think he’s still owed some type of recompense.”   

“Can you tell him no?” 

I look down at my tightly clasped hands and shook my head, afraid to say anything.

“Hmm,” was all he said, before reaching out to grasp my shoulder.  I looked up at him, and he pinned me down with his eyes.  “You didn’t text us to come get you tonight,” he said, apparently piecing it all together.  “That’s why you seemed so confused to see us at the bar.”

“No, my phone is at home,” I admitted.

“Now I’m confused” replied Samantha.  “If you didn’t text us, then who…?” she stopped midsentence.  “Oh shit,” she was getting it now.  “One of the vampires texted us from your phone?” 

“That was my guess,” I said nodding.  There must have been a fourth waiting in the wings to send the text.

“Why would they do that?” she asked with a quaver in her voice.

“McCallister was sending her a message,” Corbin answered Samantha somberly.  “So she’ll have more incentive to cooperate.”

“I can’t believe that Jason’s antics have gotten him killed, and all of us sucked into this mess,” I said.  “I plan on getting this sorted out though.”  I wasn’t sure how I was going to get it sorted out exactly, but I knew I had to, one way or another.

 “Oh honey, I’m so sorry.”  Corbin leaned forward between the seats and hugged me.  I tried to fight back the tears, but they started leaking out anyway.  “I know you loved your brother, and all of this is not giving you even a minute to grieve.” 

“Yeah,” added Samantha, “you should be at home snuggled in bed, or at the very least on the couch with a quart of Chocolate Monkey ice cream.”  I offered her a watery smile for her effort to comfort me.

“Come on Sammy,” Corbin said.  “Let’s get her home so she can get some sleep.  This will all still be waiting in the morning.”

Samantha patted my knee before starting the car.  “We love you, you know.  We will do whatever it takes to help you get this sorted out.”  That was what I was worried about.

“I don’t want to drag both of you into this if I can avoid it,” I told them again.

“Liam McCallister drug us into it when he threatened you, and had someone send us that text,” replied Corbin ominously.

Chapter 7

I awoke the next morning to the incessant ringing of the telephone. 
Ugh, what time was it?
  I made a bleary eyed grab for the cordless sitting on my bedside table.

“Hello?” I croaked.

“Good morning Abigail,” my father said in his usual clipped tones. 
Great,
the last person I wanted to speak with this morning.

“Ah, ‘morning,” I replied sitting up in bed and peering at the clock.  The little lights proclaimed it was six-fifteen.  “How’s mom?”

“That is why I’m calling.  Your mother would like you to come over to the house today.  She needs help making your brothers funeral arrangements.”  I noticed he made no mention of her emotional state, nor did he inquire about mine.  I imagined it did not even occur to him to care.

I definitely needed to get over their house to help her.  I just wasn’t sure how to balance finding the missing Sapphire, and the domino effect Jason’s death was going to cause personally.  This mess with McCallister was seriously going to put a crimp in the time I had to devote to mourning and funerals.

“I need to get over to the office this morning to make sure Jason’s work is being handled,” I replied.  “I can come over after lunch.”

“Who are you going to ask to run the shipment tracking in his place?” he asked.  His concern for business matters over all things personal was a little shocking.  I, after all, had a secret reason for going into the office – Liam McCallister.  My father really didn’t.

“I was thinking of pulling in Sal temporarily,” I told him, hoping that he had no objections.  I really did not have time to figure out something else on such short notice.  “He is not scheduled to ship out for a few weeks, and should be able to manage until we find a permanent replacement.” 

Salvador Caramino, known as Sal to his friends, had been with Lassiter Shipping since before the Revelation.  In fact, he had been with the company longer than any other captain.  He was reliable, honest and human.  Sal was also more emotionally present as a father figure than my
actual
father.  I imagine he was rocked by Jason’s death.  Last year he had cut back from being a full time captain to being more of a substitute, which was working out great for us and him since it gave our other captains more flexibility if they needed some time off.  But with full retirement on the horizon, taking on more hours probably did not fit well into his plans.  I just hoped that he was up to helping fill the gap Jason left until everything settled down. 

“Good,” he replied.  I could hear paperwork shuffling in the background.  The caller ID showed my parent’s home number so he must be in his office on the first floor.  “Just make sure you are at the house by one o’clock so you have time to discuss things with your mother before the funeral director arrives at one forty-five.” 

“I’ll be there,” I replied, wondering what exactly he would be doing while my mother and I sorted out an appropriate goodbye for my brother.  I did not get a chance to voice my musing as the line went dead.  My father would definitely never be accused of being longwinded when it came to matters pertaining to his family and Lassiter Enterprise Holdings.  At home and in the office he was brief and concise to the extreme.   At political events and society functions he was charming, charismatic even.  Hell, even I almost liked him on those occasions even though it was disconcerting how he could turn it on and off like a spigot.

I needed to get to the office as soon as possible but first I desperately needed some caffeine.  Tea was my caffeinated beverage of choice, so I went into the kitchen, filled the kettle with fresh cold water, and set it on the burner to heat while I took a quick shower.

The hot water sluicing over my shoulders and down my back felt wonderful.  I would have stayed there all day if I could have, leaning against the shower wall as the heat permeated my sore muscles.  Achy and stiff from stress, I daydreamed about a long soak in a very hot tub.  Unfortunately there was no room in the schedule for that today. 

By the time I got out of the shower and dried off, the kettle was whistling merrily.  I padded my towel clad self back into the kitchen.  Today I was going to need something strong so I doubled up on the tea leaves before plopping the mesh tea infuser into my cup - add a little sugar and a splash of milk and I was all set.  I wrapped the fingers of both hands around the mug and lifted it to my nose.  I had been drinking tea since I was little.  I think my mother had started making me a cup of decaf loaded with milk and sugar in the mornings before I went off to Kindergarten.  Now the warmth and smell was a comforting balm at the dawn of what was sure to be a nerve-wracking day.

I called my mother from the car on the way to Lassiter Shipping’s offices. The housekeeper had answered and was getting her as I wended my way through traffic.  When she did finally come on the line, it was obvious she had been crying.  Her voice, magnified by the hands-free system, sounded wobbly and hoarse.

“Oh Abigail, I’m so glad you called,” she sniffled.  “Your father said you were coming over to help me with arrangements for the funeral.”

“Yes, I will be there by one o’clock,” I reassure her.  “How are you doing?” I asked, even though I could tell she was not doing well.

“I’ll be fine, honey,” she said with a hiccup before breaking into full scale sobs.

“Oh mom, I’m so sorry I can’t come right now but I will be there as soon as I can, alright?”  A sick heavy feeling formed in my chest at the sound of her sorrow.  A shuffling sound over the car’s speakers preceded my aunt’s voice coming onto the line.

“Abigail?”

“Hi Aunt Gracie,” I said.  “I’m so glad you are there.  It sounds like mom isn’t doing so great.” 

Aunt Gracie was my mom’s younger sister by two years.  Mom had gone the traditional route, marrying into the right family, buying the right house and having the appropriate number of children, two.  She even managed to have one of each, a boy and a girl.  Aunt Gracie on the other hand had decided that marriage was not for her, and after graduate school had headed out into the world doing the exact opposite of everything her older sister had done.  She did not find her soul mate, Winston, until she was nearly sixty, and even though they had been together almost twenty-five years, they were still unmarried.

Winston was a professor of Political Science at the University of Pennsylvania.  They had met on one of Aunt Gracie’s many excursions with the Peace Corps.  She and Winston were kindred spirits, both driven to help people suffering from the corruption and political apathy of unhealthy governments.  It was only in the last few years that they had been spending more time in the immediate Philadelphia area since Winston was now teaching full time.

“She is trying to be brave but she has been pretty much crying nonstop since yesterday,” she told me.  That I was not able to be there comforting her just gave me one more reason to loathe Liam McCallister.

“Did she get any sleep?”

“Not much.”  I could hear her sigh.  “I don’t think she dozed off until close to one thirty this morning and by then she was exhausted.” Aunt Gracie sounded tired too.