“
But how?”
“
Let me worry about that. I need to call some people and … and the less you are involved the better.”
“
Then this is it? Don’t we need to go after him?” she grabbed a hold of his rumpled shirt. “I told you I want him dead!”
“
As do I!”
“
Well, then how do we do that?”
“
We do that by you going home – and thinking. It’s another reason I need you safe because you are the one that is being attacked. This is all collateral damage – you are the true target. It means that you probably know a great deal more than you realize.”
The words hit Miranda. They harkened back to her last conversation with that brutal murderer Peter.
“
You’re right! That murderer Peter Adduné said as much. He said he’d been leaving me clues or some such nonsense.”
“
Yes, I knew it! They think they are so smart, but we will show them they are not so clever,” he said rubbing his chin. “Now the one that I killed was begging for her unworthy life. I played a game with her. Before I pounded the stake into her, I told her she could be spared if she told me where Adduné’s coffin was.”
“
But why? She would never betray him! Isn’t there a code or …”
“
A code of honor? Mademoiselle, you are insane to believe such drivel. You have been reading too much fiction. These creatures operate on base carnal instincts and no more. They are driven by the need to kill and to satiate their enormous sexual desires. Nothing in them exists that even approaches the quality of honor. They would do anything to save themselves.”
“
But I thought …”
“
You thought wrong! Didn’t you see the way her beloved master left her to face the consequences alone? Isn’t that proof enough to believe what I’m saying is true?”
She pushed her hair back from her face. It was dry and had burst into wild curls that the wind was using to obscure her vision. She kept her hand clamped on the side of head until the breeze calmed down.
“
Yes, yes, you’re right. He did leave. I’d forgotten. I’m so confused.”
“
As well you should be. I’ve been doing this for many years, Mademoiselle, and am prepared. I know my enemy. She bought the lie, but then I knew she would. However, what she said makes no sense.”
“
What was it?”
“
She said that it was in Siberia. I asked her a second time and she repeated the same thing. It was then I impaled her. I couldn’t stand to have my sight fouled by one so loathsome. Do you know what that means?”
“
No.”
“
Well, you’d better think! Go home and calm down and think it over long and hard until you have an answer, Mademoiselle. Otherwise, he will get away with all this. Do you understand? “
“
Yes.”
“
Good. Now leave!”
Miranda walked through Tiffany’s once magnificent apartment. She heard the muffled tones of Stroker as he spoke hurriedly into his cell phone. Everything was moving too fast. She didn’t have time to think and that was the one thing she was being required to do. The water soaked into her ballerina flats – wetting her feet and making her feel cold and uneasy. She roamed through the war zone drinking in the damage. She stopped before Tiffany’s door wondering if she should say goodbye. She hadn’t a chance before. Her mind filled with the atrocious sight of her murdered friend. Twice had been enough - she’d rather remember her the way she was in life.
She rested her hand on the door and murmured to her friend.
“
God bless you, Tiffany, my friend. I’ll make sure he pays.”
Miranda patted the door lovingly as she kissed the polished teak.
“
Goodbye.”
She had no more business here. She glanced one more time at Tiffany’s condo. The memory would have to last a lifetime.
CHAPTER 39
Miranda paced her apartment – a cup of tea in her hand. She’d figured it all out. It had been so simple. All the pieces – all the clues. The obvious solution fueled the growing fire within her to exact revenge. It was a double-edged sword. While she was satisfied there would be a reckoning, this had been preventable. She berated herself for being obstinate. It had only been her unwillingness to believe that had allowed this onslaught to occur. Because of Miranda, the people she loved most in the world were dead. She flinched and closed her eyes wincing in pain. How could she have been such a fool?
The sound of the buzzer broke her self-indulgent derision. There was plenty of time for her to revisit that bottomless well of self-loathing. She couldn’t wallow there any longer. Stroker was right – time was of the essence. She had showered and dressed for the occasion. She didn’t know what rules of fashion vengeance demanded, but she’d make due. She was ready for the flight. She’d chartered a plane, fixing its destination on Siberia. That had been the clue Rachel had offered and she’d gotten it.
She hadn’t called the Chicago police. There was nothing she could do about Chase’s death. Of course, they’d need to fly there after they dealt with Peter. Stroker would need access to the corpse to ... to do whatever was necessary. The last thing she wanted was for her brother to end up like Rachel. She didn’t relish having him hacked apart, but it would be a slap across his face to allow the transformation to take place. After all, he had willingly sacrificed his life to prevent it.
She opened the door for Stroker. He had changed his clothing. His satchel was gripped in his hand. He looked even more grim than usual. It was good though. It meant at least one of them was handling things the way they should be and not treating this as if it were a game of tug of war. She relived the sensation of Peter between her legs and flushed from embarrassment and shame. How could she ever have let him touch her? The murderer of her best friend and brother? The real executioner of Jake? The game master who had eliminated Figgs and Pinckus and held Reginald in an icy stasis? The fact that she still found enjoyment from the memory of his touch made it all the worse. She felt sick and wished that feeling of pleasure to be excised from her by a knife.
“
Is everything …” Miranda started to ask. She stopped not knowing how to finish the question.
“
Everything is taken care of,” Stroker assured taking off his hat and sitting down on her couch. He chose almost the exact spot Peter had. She wanted to tell him to move so he wouldn’t be tainted by Peter’s disease, but she knew it wasn’t as simple as avoiding germs. This was a much more foul virus afoot – one of the mind that was contracted through the letting of blood.
Miranda sat next to him feeling the need for closeness. Stroker was giving her a safe harbor – a foothold in this madness. How had her world suddenly become this way? She didn’t know, but she should have heeded the warnings that everything would happen fast – so fast that she wouldn’t have time to think.
“
And you? Have you thought about things?”
Stroker placed his hand over hers. It was a comforting touch and one she needed. She siphoned strength from him – it helped stir her anger.
“
Yes, I’ve thought everything through and know where he is. If only I had listened! I was too intent on arguing and having sex with vampires to even do anything to protect the people I loved!”
Stroker ran his hand lightly through her hair. The touch was similar to one she bestowed on a childhood pet – a canary. She had fondled the bird in the same way – delicately so as not to injure its fragile body. She recaptured through visceral memory, how beautiful her little yellow bird was and how much she’d loved her. Her mind drifted back to these happier times when her only responsibilities were replacing the bird seed and providing fresh water. Her parents had taken care of everything else, but here she was, all on her own, and making a complete mess of things.
“
Do not deal in the past and recriminations. You couldn’t have known. Even with all the warnings and signposts. It is too much for the mind to accept for it runs against the grain of everything we are taught to believe. The important thing is you now know the truth. Tell me what that is.”
“
I know that there was a coffin delivered to Fairfield. There was some conjecture as to whether or not it was delivered, but that was because Rachel was the recipient of the shipment. Rachel Abbott is the creature you saw tonight – or what was left of her.”
“
A coffin? And this creature was on the receiving end?”
“
Yes, and Rachel worked for Jake Monroe. I should tell you now that I lied to you. You asked me if anyone had been hurt and I didn’t tell you about Jake. He was someone I was … was
involved
with. He headed Fairfield Museum and was taken suddenly ill. He died.”
“
I’m sorry. I wish you had been more forthright. If I had known they were attacking, I might have guessed their timing and …”
“…
averted this tragedy?”
“
Maybe not. It may have been inevitable. It’s difficult to say. Please continue.”
Miranda drew in a long breath.
“
Jake had suspected her of something, and I had pooh-poohed him, but now, knowing what she’s become, it makes perfect sense. So it wasn’t just you that I disregarded. I even dismissed dear Jake having the intelligence to know his own employee. He was the one who worked with her and yet I refused to believe him when he said she’d changed! How stupid, stupid, stupid can I be?”
Stroker nodded softly.
“
We all have our lessons to learn. It seems you learned yours through extraordinarily hard circumstances … as I once did.”
Stroker’s story came back to her. She reached out and touched his arm.
“
Oh, I am sorry! I’ve done it again! Thinking I’m the only one who’s experienced pain from these miserable … miserable monsters! I hate them! I hate them all!” Miranda was agitated. Stroker let her get it out. He’d been through this before and knew when to push and when to let go.
“
Okay, calm down Miranda,” she said aloud to herself. She placed her hands face down in front of her to reinforce the notion. She felt like she was unraveling and coming apart. She took a series of deep breaths and waited for them to take hold. She knew Stroker was depending on her to get through this and tell him what she knew. He needed to know all of it. Then there was that plane to catch. She’d made the arrangements and only she knew what they were.
“
I apologize again. I’m finding it difficult to concentrate.”
“
Don’t be sorry. It’s alright. You’re overloaded right now.”
“
Yes, but there’s so much more to come, isn’t there?”
Stroker lowered his eyes. She knew it was his way of saying yes.
“
The coffin ...” she started. She needed to complete the story. “I knew it had been delivered to Fairfield because of a note. A suicide note.” Stroker tilted his head to the side narrowing his eyes. He was listening. “A mover hired to pack the exhibit confessed to sending it. His conscience got the better of him – or the vampires did. He became unstable and killed himself, but left the note. It was sent to my barrister and … to make a long story short, the coffin was sent to Fairfield. That’s where it has to be – at Fairfield Museum.”
“
That is good, Mademoiselle, but ...”
“
Yes, yes, but there’s more. I met Peter at the exhibit. He said something about the collection pieces being
home
. I thought it was an odd phrase to use, but let it pass. Then there’s Jake himself being killed. I mean why? It had to be because of what he knew – or could reveal.”
“
Your mind is active. That is good. I guessed that Fairfield must figure into things since it was there that the collection was sent, but she said Siberia. What does that have to do with Fairfield? Or the museum?”
“
I was just coming to that part. I know! I know!” Miranda shouted.
Stroker’s eyes lit up. He leaned forward expectantly.
“
You’ve figured it out?”
“
Yes, I had visited Fairfield before. Last year. It was when I first met Jake. He was showing me around and a worker had stopped him. Rex … Rex somebody or other. He asked Jake about chairs that were needed for an outdoor banquet. Jake told him they were in Siberia. Rex immediately walked away as if he knew what Jake meant. I was puzzled. I couldn’t imagine what he was talking about so I asked him. He said that Fairfield Museum had a sub-basement – a hidden level – that they used to store infrequently needed items – like furniture and fixtures. Since the place is desolate and seldom visited – the staff had nicknamed it Siberia.”