Page 31 of Etched in Stone
“Really, now. I can’t manage to understand why. I also don’t understand how you can just let a prime vehicle sit. Doesn’t that cost you a relative fortune? The garage space alone.”
Ray sighed. True, the top of the line SUV was a luxury, but he needed space for his wings and tall stature. It only took up one spot in the garage, and with the rest of the tenants willing to shell out ridiculous amounts of cash for the privilege having a parking spot, it more than covered his costs for keeping it. But that wasn’t why he sighed. He still hadn’t fessed up to the whole truth.
“I own the building.”
“Which one?”
“Both of them.”
“What?!”
“I made some very wise investments in the 1800s. When I came over during the war, you have to remember that the average rent for an apartment was fifty bucks a month. I wanted security and privacy. It just made sense to buy real estate.” He shrugged and kept driving. When he glanced back
over to her seat, she was ogling at him with a new sense of wonder.
“You’re rich,” she said finally.
“Yes, I have a very diverse portfolio. Anyone who lived through the Great Depression learned that’s the only way to go. Old money is also good at making more money.”
“No wonder you weren’t interested in my piddly twelve thousand in rent money.”
“No. I was more interested in protecting you.”
“And boning me?”
“Added perk.”
They smiled briefly at each other as he continued to negotiate through the traffic. A short while later, they pulled up in front of a mansion that looked as if it had come straight out of the pages of a Poe story.
“Gothic much?” Jesse quipped.
“Gothic Revival. I could probably perch up there for a while, but it’s not like one of those old cathedrals in England where I weathered nearly a century.”
“Is it possible he has a gargoyle fetish? Maybe has a few of your buddies in there?”
“Not very likely. Most of them I think stayed local to Europe.”
“But if he has a sigil, maybe he knows what it is and is keeping it for someone.”
“I don’t know if we can take that chance.”
Just showing up unannounced on his doorstep had some risks attached, but there was no guarantee that they weren’t going to get the door slammed in their face. He had already begun formulating a plan that was little more than an unsophisticated cat burglary in case that happened. However, it would go a lot smoother if he could just lay eyes on its location first. He was hoping Jesse could get them that far at least.
When he broke in, he wanted her as far away as possible. The police would have a hard time prosecuting him for the crime. He had a few dozen places to fly and stone sleep the heat away, but Jesse wanted to keep living and working in the area. Like Olivia, he doubted he could get her to move.
The spark of hope lit him and he tried to squash it down. If things continued to go his way, it was possible the two of them could be together, raise a family, and do all the things his heart had ached to do with Jessenia.
Ray parked them down the street, wanting to keep their presence and vehicle as far from describable as possible. The walk up to the front of the mansion wasn't gated, but there was quite a long drive, long enough for anyone to be alerted and ready for intruders. The front door was a large solid piece of oak, but in the corner, there was a very modern camera mounted. He stayed back, out of view while Jesse rang the bell. No use alarming the man with the view of Ray through the camera.
The door was opened by a young woman with a mane of bleach blond hair in a skirt that was slightly too short and tight for Ray's taste. Her dress was low cut and if he were not mistaken, her breasts were artificially enlarged. She tottered on heels as if she were not at all used to wearing them.
Or perhaps she was already drunk at ten o'clock in the morning.
“Are you here to fix the, hic, hot tub?” she asked Jesse.
“Not exactly, but Ray here is very good with machines. I bet he can get it up and running in no time,” Jesse said, smooth as glass as she stepped in past the woman. “Is Morris around?”
“Morris is always around. Champagne? I'm not sure you’re his type. Maybe you could roll the skirt a little and take off that scarf?”
