The Vampire (THE VAMPIRE Book 1) (60 page)

Genier smiled and then his expression grew serious again. “Go slow with him. Don’t expect things to just fall into place like they were before. Give him some time. He might be very mistrustful and wary of you. Things will have to be carefully put back together between the two of you.”

Jason stared at him slightly open mouthed for several moments.
Big enough sign for you, Jason?
Redlyn’s phrasing ran through his head, an echo to Genier’s words.

Genier ordered two brandies for them. Then he removed several sheets of paper from his leather portfolio. “Oh, it appears my assistant has put copies of your resignation letter in with these—excellent. All you need to do then is write ‘rescinded,’ sign and date it.”

Jason smiled to himself as he noted Augere had already signed it, in fountain pen ink, with tomorrow’s date. As he got ready to sign, a bartender arrived with the brandies, and his notary public stamp.
Damn! The Geniers do think of everything!
he mused. He witnessed the signature, as Jason signed the rescinded resignation and then the confidentiality agreement. He did feel a slight foreboding, a chill he shrugged off.
Come on, it’s not like you are signing a pact with the devil for your soul. It is all just so legal and formal,
he thought.
And yet, not
.

Jason handed the forms to Genier. “I noticed Mr. Augere never did sign my resignation letter.”

Genier sighed. “Yes, I didn’t have a fountain pen available, and he refused to sign until he had one.”

Jason smiled to himself.

“I do have to inform you of this also,” Genier said, removing another form from his portfolio. “Some additional expenses were incurred from the Europe trip. He has allowed all of them as business expenses and we have agreed to absorb half of that cost as well: Allen and Nick’s airfare, hotel bills, rental car, miscellaneous expenses, totaling just under $8,000.”

Jason winced.

“He would not allow your airfare to Minnesota, $560, however, since that was your decision, and so he had that amount deducted from any monies owed to you.” He looked up from the document he was reading. “It is best not to try to fight him on things like that, Jason; you will never win. Trust me.”

“Pfft, fine, I don’t care, really, he has every right to do that,” Jason commented with a wave of his hand. He laughed. “I’m just glad to be going back to work.”

Genier reached into his portfolio again, and withdrew Jason’s keys to the house in Boston.

“Here are your keys,” James announced in a matter of fact tone.

“Oh! My keys…! But…I have…” He paused, totally surprised. Didn’t Augere know the Geniers had somehow gotten his keys? But he had to have known…either Allen or even Augere himself had to have removed those keys from his luggage. And then didn’t Genier know Augere had already provided him with his own personal key to the house?

“I didn’t know where I had misplaced them!” Jason responded after his confused pause.

“Allen picked them up in the hotel room in London and secured them as he was asked to do.” James shrugged.

So Augere had known. Now Jason’s mind replayed the scene at the Maspero. When Augere had asked “where are the keys to the house” it seemed he was only trying to ascertain whether Jason even knew the keys were missing. Or if he had any clue at all as to where the missing keys had gone…But that had to mean Augere wasn’t asking for the keys back….and…
at that point he probably was about to invite me to come back…

Double facepalm
. He had jumped to the wrong conclusion. Because of what Augere said and the way he phrased it. Jason could have spared himself some humiliation and apparent groveling. He wanted to burst out laughing suddenly. And yet everything had worked out all right even so. Misreading Augere’s intention had prompted him to say what he did, in total—but unnecessary—desperation. Because at that point, maybe Augere had already made his decision to let him come back. He gave Jason his own key then, as a gesture, knowing he didn’t have to. That gesture seemed even more significant now.

And then Augere had briefly tried to embrace me. I think maybe he was trying to be a little…nice…but it was kind of awkward and even a little clumsy for him
. Jason was more touched now by his encounter with Augere than he had been during their actual meeting.

I think I did just find something quite endearing about Augere
. Jason smiled to himself.

“Also Mr. Augere said he asked if you needed any money but indicated he didn’t get a coherent reply. He authorized me to provide you with some funds.” He handed Jason a white envelope from his portfolio. “Can you count it out, please, and then sign for it here so I can return the form to accounting?”

Jason finished counting out the stack of twenties and then looked up and smiled. “$560. How do you suppose he came up with that exact amount?”

James smiled and shrugged. “An unfathomable mystery, I’m afraid.”

James paid the bill and they got up to leave. As they were headed to the door James paused in the hallway just before the exit and mumbled a few words to himself. He looked up then and met Jason’s inquiring look.

“It’s an old superstition. The man who owned this building lost it gambling, in a card game I believe. The loss was devastating; his home had meant everything to him. He committed suicide and his spirit is felt to be here still. It is said that when people leave here, just before they cross the threshold, they might feel a tug on their arm or hand or clothing, from the former owner. It is thought he is reminding them to remember all they are grateful for, all they hold dear in their lives. And to keep the promise to yourself to hold onto and protect what is most precious to you. I don’t know if it is just some made up myth but I really like the sentiment. My father, not at all a sentimental man, would always pause here and do the same thing. And I always do so too.”

Jason nodded and then he took a moment and did the same. He had a lot to be grateful for, today especially. And one of the things he was grateful for was standing next to him. He promised himself he would always remember to do this on planned revisits to the Muriel.

“It was a wonderful dinner, in excellent company.” James announced.

“I can say exactly the same,” Jason replied.

“Don’t hesitate to call me—for anything, Jason. And once again welcome back.” He hugged Jason tightly for several moments. “Call me when you get to Boston.”

“I will. Thank you so much, Mr. Genier.”

James paused with a thoughtful expression before they parted. “As I said, he is quite an extraordinary being. I would relive every day I have spent knowing him all over again if I had the chance to do so. I envy your journey with him.”

Jason nodded and smiled.

RETURN TO ABNORMAL

Chapter 24

The Departure

Jason walked back to the hotel, sated with food and alcohol, yet feeling light and energetic. He would sleep better tonight than he had in a long while.

Once he arrived at his hotel he contacted the airline to change his flight. His first thought was to get a flight to Boston first thing in the morning, wanting just to get home, regardless of Augere’s suggestion that he delay travel. But then he thought, why not stay? Why not have a full, easy and carefree day in New Orleans, just enjoying every moment and end the trip on a fully positive note. He wouldn’t see Augere until Monday anyway. If he waited and left Saturday morning, he might still have the house to himself maybe until Sunday night at least. He arranged the flight, got an extra night at the hotel and enjoyed a deep and blissful sleep.

He viewed the city with a new sense of joy the next day. He had a full breakfast, and was still hungry enough for beignets by noon. He browsed shops and bought a few things, not having to be so careful with money now.

He paused to enjoy the energetic music of another newly discovered street band, The Smoking Time Jazz Club, charmed with the elaborate swing dance moves of some of the band members, lingering as long as he liked with others paused to watch the impromptu performance. He dropped a significant tip into the open guitar case before finally moving on, humming strains from one of the tunes “When I get low, I get high…”

By 5 p.m. he found himself near the more promising of the absinthe bars, the one in proximity to the Ursulines Convent. He wanted to go to the Convent now more than ever, more curious now that Augere had essentially forbidden him to do so. He wouldn’t even attempt to go. He was mindful of the fact that Augere was, and probably would still be, in the city for some time yet. It was definitely not a good idea to antagonize him now. Maybe he would get the story from him later. On a whim, not at all expecting to run into Augere, he decided to visit the absinthe bar again.

He ordered an Italian soda, having decided to go easy on the alcohol for now, and was disappointed not the see the girl bartender he had spoken to before. But the evening shift, her shift, was just coming on at 5:30; she remembered him.

“Hey, I think your friend was in here,” she said to Jason.

That info would have completely riveted him just twenty-four hours ago. But it still was enticing. “When—did you see him?” he asked, still eager to know any detail about Augere and his habits.

“Last night. Came in around ten or so. I said to him: ‘hey, someone was here looking for you.’ He said ‘I know.’ And I said ‘I’m going to need to see your ID, please.’” She laughed as she told this to Jason; a full throaty sexy laugh. “He got this angry frown on his face—kind of adorable—it was hard to keep from laughing—and he said ‘I have killed people for far less than this much aggravation.’ So I nodded with a serious expression and I said ‘Oh, I’m sure you have.’” She laughed again. Jason took a quick swallow of his beverage. “He showed me his ID; I didn’t charge him for the drink though. Like I said if he wasn’t so damn easy on the eyes, I’d run him outta here.”

Jason joined in her playful laughter.

“Does he have a girlfriend?” she asked. “Because, you know,” she paused and wrinkled her nose in a charming way, “I think he was actually flirting with me a little.”

Jason gave her an encouraging nod; he wanted to hear more.

“I told him: ‘I think you and I could have a really good time together.’ He looked up with a kind of smirk then and said ‘would that mean you would not ask for ID again?’ I gave him a big smile and shook my head and said: ‘No. It wouldn’t.’ Then he said something under his breath that I think might have been ‘fuck you,’ with just the hint of a smile and I said ‘that is
exactly
what I had in mind.’” She laughed again, a full mirthful sound this time, as she shook her head. She poured Jason a free shot of Savannah Tea, which he was curious enough to accept. “Then I said to him: ‘you know, there are other absinthe bars in town besides mine, where I’m sure you won’t get this kind of harassment.’ And he said: ‘That is absolutely correct. No one punishes me in the manner you do.’ ‘Oh, I know that’s right!’ I told him. Then he looked me directly in the eyes and said ‘I will give your suggestion some consideration.’” She said this with a solemn nod, as if trying to imitate him. “He has this ‘southern genteel’ way of talking and I kind of like that.” She shook her head and laughed again as she went to wait on another customer.

But was it really Augere though?
In some ways, it did sound like it could be him. He would have to ask the name on the ID he gave. She came back to chat more.

“Can you remember the name…on the ID?”

“Oh…ah….damn! It was…French. Damn…! He always seems to distract me.” She shook her head. “Like I don’t actually check his birthdate, not since that first time, even though I’m looking right at it…”

“Well—can you remember what he was wearing?”

She nodded. “Black velvety jacket, the long kind, like an old frock coat.” She gave a nod to Jason’s dark attire as if to say she knew he would get the reference. It was the same thing Jason had seen Augere wearing at their Maspero reunion. “I was wrong about the piercings though…” She frowned. “But I swear—something about him made me think of ‘piercing.’ Maybe it was his eyes… But here I am, focusing on your friend, when”—she paused and held up the bottle of Savannah Tea; Jason nodded at another shot—“you are pretty much my type also.” She moved toward him briefly as she folded her arms and leaned on the bar. “It’s just that your friend is so…”

“I know.” Jason nodded. “He does tend to take the spotlight, always. My name is Jason, by the way.”

She shook his hand. “I’m Jade Doucet Jackson.” The two found other things to talk and laugh about for several moments although the topic soon returned briefly to Augere. Jason was enjoying her company and her good mood. It matched his own. And he liked her style.

In fact he was feeling in an exceptionally good mood. The weight of the world had lifted off of his shoulders.

When she went to wait on another customer he gathered up a newspaper someone had left behind laying near him on the bar. He had been so self-absorbed lately the events of the world had gone by without his notice. It was yesterday’s paper and he almost tossed it back when a short local article caught his eye. He read:

A local man was found wandering, incoherent, near Iberville and Royal, with his right arm raggedly severed as if it had been ripped from his body. He appeared to have suffered an attack but was not able to give any description of an assailant and died soon after at the hospital, suffering from shock due to massive blood loss. The victim is well known to local police, having an extensive criminal record, but his name is being withheld pending family notification.

Jason felt a sudden chill, one that passed quickly. It was just a coincidence, certainly. He had been in the same vicinity that night when a menacing man had terrorized him too. He shrugged off that incident now. He didn’t want to think about what might have happened to him considering the fate this person had suffered. He left the absinthe bar and continued roaming through the French Quarter, stopping at the French Market where he bought some inexpensive touristy trinkets, small leather goods, and an artistically rendered voodoo doll.