Sips of Blood Part 13

d.a.m.n it! He was in the midst of closing an important business deal, and he couldn't clear his mind of the pain to think straight.

"I'll call back."

There were a few seconds of silence.

"Okay." And she was gone, for good, he hoped.

"Dad!"

"Aw s.h.i.t!"

"Dad, Robbie hit me again."

He wanted to tell his daughter to shoot her brother, but he knew that would be unwise because she took things too literally.

"Yeah, yeah. Get your mother."

"But, Dad..."

He heard his son let out a loud raspberry.

"Mom!"

Garrett let down the top of the commode and tried to sit. There was no comfortable position that he could a.s.sume.

Why the h.e.l.l did he do it? Nice and safe, that's how it had always been with Maitresse. She's a professional. The t.u.r.d last night was a pervert. And the j.a.c.k.-.o.f.f. had even invited him back for another session. Told Garrett his name was Letcher. Rin Tin Tin and Letcher. Garrett shook his head and almost began to laugh, but caught himself when the pain kicked in.

Chapter 23.

"A Cohiba?" asked Sade.

"Wow! They're hard to come by. Whom do you know?"

"I get them myself. I bring them back via Canada. I can't resist the leathery spiceness and dark chocolaty rich flavors."

David hesitated a moment before choosing a cigar.

"But it is a tough draw, and I've heard you have to be careful of fakes while you're up there."

Sade almost dropped the lid of the box on David's outreached hand.

"I bring them in via Canada, but buy them in person at a state shop in Cuba. Of course I could purchase them at the Davidoff shop in Toronto, but I enjoy the trip to Cuba because I visit some of my old friends."

"Then this should be the real thing."

"I a.s.sure you that I don't replace the originals with fakes just to fool my guests."

Sade lit the cigar for David.

"I don't normally smoke, Mr. Sade; however, when someone offers me a Cohiba, I think of it as a special occasion."

Sade sat in a burgundy leather wingchair.

"And it is, David. At least I hope it will be."

"Mr. Sade, I've enjoyed the meal and the company, but shouldn't we get down to discussing business?"

"A cognac? The Cohiba is always enhanced by a good cognac."

"I'm sure it is, but I'd like to get down to discussing business."

"It'll take me un moment to pour each of us a snifter."

Eat rapidement, ma pet.i.te Liliana. Sade had begun to tire of his guest and wished to move on to his own nutritious dinner awaiting him on the streets.

"Is this a working fireplace?"

"Mais oui," answered Sade. He poured out a hefty snifter for each of them; after all, it could be a long night. "We rarely light un feu since les flammes unhinge me." He walked back to the sofa where David sat and handed him a snifter. "A spark any bigger than what's on the tip of this Cohiba..." Sade held up his cigar in his right hand. "Seems totally useless and dangerous to me. I've lost many of my brethren to spiteful bonfires."

Sade returned to his chair.

"In fires?"

Sade nodded, but refused to elaborate.

"David, you haven't tried the cognac yet."

"Actually I think I may have had enough to drink. When you give me the work papers, I want to be able to make some sense of them, and hopefully I'll make sense to you. You do have the papers, don't you?"

"The papers..." Sade halted. He heard the sound of a car pulling up in front of the house. "Did I mention that I have a niece?"

"You have a dependent?"

"I have a niece. She's quite charming. I think you'll enjoy meeting her." The front door opened and closed. "And here she is," Sade said, rising from his chair. "Liliana!"

A wilted young woman entered the doorway. Her hair looked uncombed, half moons hung under her eyes, and her make-up appeared to be smeared.

Sade wondered whether he should send her upstairs and try again another night.

"Uncle?"

Sade sighed and dared to persevere.

"Liliana, I would like you to meet my guest, Monsieur David Petry." Sade stood aside so that she had a clear view of the sofa.

"Good evening," David said while attempting to stand from the plush sofa's feather pillows. When he finally stood, he noticed he didn't have a free hand to offer and immediately put down the snifter so that he could extend his right hand and walked over to greet the young woman.

Sade turned back to his niece and saw that her skin had paled nearly to the point of blotting out the dark circles under her eyes.

Liliana watched the young man move awkwardly across the Persian rug. Did he have a limp, or had his foot gone to sleep? The hand he extended looked smooth and soft. His cheeks showed no sign of war wounds. But the blond hair, the blue eyes, the features were there.

"Stuart?"

Liliana did not accept his hand. He let his right hand droop to his side.

"Don't I know you?" he asked.

"Ah! You feel a certain deja-vu when looking at my niece."

"No. It's you, sir."

"Moi!"

"Yes. At a diner in New Jersey."

"Hardly the kind of place I would partake in any culinary pleasure."

"In the men's room. This is quite embarra.s.sing. You don't remember me? Perhaps I should leave it that way."

"Oui. Come join us, Liliana."

She felt the tug of her uncle's fingers on the sleeve of her dress.

David stepped aside to make room for her.

"You're the young lady who's queasy about eating rabbits."

Rabbits. Diner. How had her uncle found this impostor?

Liliana allowed herself to be pulled into the room, but directed herself to the wing chair. Sade tried to alter her path, but stopped when she dug her high heel onto his left instep. There was no cry of pain, only a slight tearing of the Marquis's eyes.

Sitting down in the wing chair, Liliana said, "I'd love to know more about your first meeting with my uncle, Mr. Petry."

"His name is David. And you did hear him say that he was rather embarra.s.sed about some meeting we supposedly had."

"Tell me about it, Mr. Petry."

Sade began to pace the room. David, unsure whether he should stand or sit, decided to lean against the mantel of the fireplace.

"Call me David, please, Ms. Sade."

"My name is not Sade. It's Liliana Plissay, but do call me Liliana."

"Or even Lil," muttered Sade mid-way across the room.

"I'm sure my uncle wouldn't mind if you sat while he worked off his anxiety."

"Oh, do, please," said Sade. "Your cognac is waiting for you."

David took a seat on the sofa and looked around.

"An ashtray, Uncle."

"Excusez-moi." Sade retrieved an ashtray from inside a cabinet. "Matilda, our ser--housekeeper likes to put everything away."

"You met my uncle in a diner?"

"Yes." David cleared his throat several times. "I had never been in that diner before, and surely I never plan on returning."

"I presume you don't even remember the name of the place," said Sade.

"I don't even remember the location or the town I was in." He blushed when he looked at Liliana.

"Well, so much for that pet.i.te histoire."

"Were you dining there, David?"

Sade loudly harrumphed.

"Not exactly, Liliana. I became ill while driving and stopped to use their men's room. Your uncle came in to clean up, I believe, and we basically met at the sink."

"Simple, boring histoire, ma pet.i.te cherie."

"Now you remember it, Uncle?"

"Vaguely"

"And my uncle invited you home with him to do his accounting books?"

David took a few moments to think about this.

"I guess I gave your uncle my name. Honestly, I don't remember telling him that I was an accountant. At the time he wanted my a.s.sistance in getting you to eat some rabbit.

"It's odd that you should have called me, Mr. Sade. Did we speak of doing some work?"

"Only on the telephone." Sade stopped pacing to stand behind the wing chair.

David downed almost the whole snifter of cognac.