The Keeping (42 page)

Flipping through
the yellowing pages of the Book of the Law, he found the passage he
wanted.

The keeping of
our secret is a wolf’s primary duty. Threats of exposure must be
swiftly eradicated. Should more than two outsiders learn of our
existence, dispersal of the young will begin immediately. Remaining
members will obliterate all evidence of the pack’s existence.
Humanity is a disease covering the earth, a force that cannot be
fought. Better that a few should die to stop the scourge, than to
risk the perishment of all.

Chapter
30

The young woman
hummed to herself as she sat feeding documents into the paper
shredder in an upscale law office. She was just a temp, and as
usual, no one left her any real or important work to do. Filing,
shredding, a bit of typing and answering the phone; it was pretty
easy and that’s the way she liked it. Working full time wasn’t on
her agenda. Nope. She planned on finding a rich lawyer and settling
down as soon as possible. Too bad this particular job didn’t hold
any matrimonial prospects. The lawyer she was temping for was a
grumpy old man—fifty if he was a day. Still age and looks wouldn’t
matter if he was rich enough... She gave the office an assessing
perusal, adding up the cost of the decor and factoring in the
location. He might be a possibility. Unfortunately, he was in court
and not scheduled back for several hours. Oh well, that left her
plenty of time to do her work as well as wander the halls looking
for eligible professionals. It was always a good policy to keep her
options open.

She took a moment
to check her appearance as it reflected in the window. Her blonde
hair was up in a respectable knot at her nape with a few tendrils
falling about her face and her makeup appeared flawless. Giving a
satisfied smile, she stood, thinking maybe she’d go for a little
walk and see who might be in the halls or gathered near the
elevator...

The phone rang and
she answered it, automatically falling into a smooth, professional
mode. “Good morning. You’ve reached the law office of Leon Aldrich.
Ms. Matthews speaking. How may I help you?”

“Put me through to
Aldrich.” A male voice barked the order at her.

“Mr. Aldrich is
out at the moment. May I take a message?”

“No. You may not.
Where’s Ms. Sandercock?”

“She’s away at a
funeral. I’m filling in for her for a few days.”

“Humph! When will
Aldrich be back?”

Ms. Matthews
opened her mouth to respond. “I—”

The caller cut her
off. “And don’t give me any of those annoying answers they teach
you at business college. I hate it when people tell me
‘they
can’t really say.’
Of course you can say! You know damned well
when he’s coming back. It’s written in his day-planner on his
damned desk. Now get up, walk into his office and check.”

“I’m sorry,
sir...” Ms. Matthews quivered at the vitriol in the man’s voice,
but did her best to withstand it.

“No, you’re not
sorry. But you will be once I tell Aldrich that you didn’t follow
my orders. Do you know who I am, girl? My name is Greyson. Anthony
Greyson. I own the building you’re sitting in. Hell, I probably own
the apartment you live in, too. And I know I own Leon Aldrich. Now
if you expect to ever work in this city again, you’ll do as you’re
told...now!”

Ms. Matthews
jumped as if the man was actually in the room barking orders at
her. Some instinct told her that every word he had spoken was true.
She scurried into Mr. Aldrich’s office and checked the planner on
his desk, then relayed the information to Mr. Greyson.

The man’s tone of
voice changed, becoming calmer, almost pleasant. “Good. I like the
way you follow orders, girl. Now is there anything else written in
his book from yesterday or for the next four days?”

“Mr. Greyson, I’m
not sure I should tell you—”

“Are you defying
me, girl?”

Gripping the phone
tighter, Ms. Matthews swallowed hard. That mean, dangerous edge was
back in the man’s voice. She looked around nervously, sure he was
nearby which of course he wasn’t. It just seemed that way. “No,
sir. Of course not. Just let me look... Okay, he has only one
message on yesterday’s date. It says ‘Greene called. Returning.
Next few days. Report.”

“Ahh... That is
good news. Unexpected, but good. All right. Now you may take a
message for me. Tell Aldrich that I will want Ms. Greene’s complete
report delivered to me in four days time. Got that?”

Ms. Matthews
scribbled the message down. “Yes, sir. You want Mr. Aldrich to
deliver Ms. Greene’s report.”

“Excellent. Now
what else does he have written down?”

She flipped
through the next few pages of the planner. It was blank. “There’s
nothing there, sir. I believe I heard him mention something about
going away for the weekend.”

“While the cat’s
away... Thanks you, Ms... Er... What was your name?”

“Matthews, sir.
Mary Matthews.”

“Right. Thank you,
Ms. Matthews. You’ve been most helpful. I like to keep close tabs
on my employees. Tell me, which agency did Aldrich get you
from?”

“Richardsons.” She
answered hesitantly, not sure where the conversation was going.

“I’ll keep that in
mind and recommend you to some of my other employees when they need
a temp. I think, Ms. Matthews, you and I might work well
together.”

“Together,
sir?”

“Uh-huh. I’ll be
in touch. Make sure Aldrich gets that message.”

The man hung up
without even saying goodbye and Ms. Matthews slowly put the phone
down, frowning. She wasn’t sure, but something was telling her that
Mr. Greyson might want her to do a bit of snooping for him. It
didn’t sound exactly on the up and up, but Greyson probably had
lots of wealthy people working for him. Lots of wealthy, young,
eligible people... A smile curved her lips as she considered the
possibilities.

*****

Aldrich walked
into his office and flicked on the lights. It was six-thirty and he
was tired. The damned judge hadn’t wanted to call a recess for the
weekend; making them stay until all evidence was presented and
arguments given. Well, the man could spend his weekend deliberating
legal points if it made him happy. All Aldrich wanted was a quiet
weekend away at his cottage by the lake.

Walking to his
desk, he scanned the messages the temp had taken. Nothing important
there, thank goodness, except... He paused over the very bottom
slip of paper. Greyson had called and wanted the complete Greene
report in four days. What...?

He frowned. Why
would Greyson think there was a complete report? As far as the man
knew, Greene was still in Stump River attempting to get information
out of Taylor. His gaze fell on his day-planner. It showed
yesterday’s date and he knew it had been turned to today’s date
when he’d left that morning. That could only mean that someone had
been in here checking it.

Aldrich tightened
his jaw. Either Greyson had stopped in for a visit—which was highly
unlikely since the man was leaving today—or he’d phoned and bullied
the temp into going through the planner. It wouldn’t be the first
time it had happened. Pacing the room, he wondered what to do.
Greene had said she was returning, but there was no mention of a
completed report. Hell, he’d be surprised if she had ten words
down, but he couldn’t tell Greyson that.

Greyson had hinted
that he would hold Aldrich responsible for the success of Greene’s
assignment. It might have been a joke, but with that crafty old
coot, you never knew. Aldrich stared around his well appointed
office noting the leather furniture, and expensive art on the wall.
Then he considered his European sports car and the penthouse suite
he’d inherited when Greyson’s last lawyer no longer needed it. He
shuddered slightly, recalling how the former lawyer suddenly closed
his practice and left town, leaving no forwarding address; at least
that was the official story Greyson Inc. told anyone who asked.
Aldrich had helped construct the tale, ensuring everything was nice
and tidy.

Everyone involved
in the little ‘misunderstanding’ had an alibi and there were no
inquiries from the former lawyer’s family or friends—Greyson
preferred to hire employees with no outside ties; it smoothed over
complications if things ‘didn’t work out.’

Yes, Aldrich knew
only too well the fate of his predecessor, especially since he’d
been in charge of the cover up. The gardener had been only too
happy that Mr. Greyson had re-landscaped the backyard of the
estate—supposedly in preparation for the yearly charity dinner
hosted by Greyson Inc.—and never questioned the extra large hole
that was purportedly dug for the new evergreen. Nor had the man
wondered why said evergreen was planted overnight rather than
during the day; like most of Greyson’s employees, he had known when
to turn a blind eye to strange happenings.

He had received a
tidy bonus for the way he’d handled the situation; there was no
body, no evidence and no questions were ever asked. He hadn’t dared
inquire why the lawyer’s services had been...terminated. Now he
wondered if perhaps he should have.

Damn! He crumpled
the message in his fist. There was too much at stake and he wasn’t
about to let a slip of a girl mess it up. He narrowed his eyes as
he considered his next step.

*****

The journey from
Stump River was...interesting. Mel took the first shift driving,
getting them as far as Timmins before the throbbing in her arm
forced her to abandon her role as chauffeur. Lucy however, was only
too happy to take over. It turned out she was a bit of a speed
demon behind the wheel, weaving in and out of lanes, passing
transports and viewing speed limits as helpful suggestions rather
than rules. While not usually a nervous passenger, Mel was only too
thankful that the pain killer she’d taken made her a bit sleepy,
causing her to sleep on and off for most of the journey.

It was well past
midnight when they arrived in Toronto. Realizing she was soon going
to be short on funds, Mel had tentatively suggested they rest in
the car at the airport rather than getting a room. Lucy agreed,
viewing it as all part of the adventure. Tipping back the seats,
they dozed until dawn then used the airport facilities to tidy up
and prepare for their flight.

Mel tried not to
draw attention to the fact that she was feeling progressively
worse. She wasn’t even sure if the airline would let her on the
plane if they suspected she was really ill, in case whatever was
wrong with her turned out to be contagious. Of course, the problem
was just the cut on her arm—what else could it be—but would the
airline listen to her explanation? No, it was best to keep things
quiet.

While Lucy browsed
for magazines, Mel snuck another peak at the cut. It was still hot
to the touch and the redness was spreading, but the wound didn’t
seem to be weeping at all. In fact, the cut was nearly healed,
which was more than a little puzzling. To be truthful, her whole
body felt...different; tingling as if each individual cell was up
to something. A dull headache had been her constant companion for
the past two days as well, and she had the strangest feeling of
paranoia; as if there was someone else was in her head and privy to
her thoughts.

She popped another
pain killer and loosened her collar as a wave of heat came over her
again. Wiping her brow with a trembling hand, she pasted a smile on
her face when Lucy re-appeared with two coffees and several
magazines.

“Here, this will
make you feel better. It’s one of those special blends you always
talk about.” Lucy sat down beside her, pressing a cup into Mel’s
hands.

Mel thanked her
and took a sip, waiting for the familiar rush that only a good cup
of coffee could bring. The rush, unfortunately, was more of fizzle
and she sighed heavily. Just her luck, the first cup of coffee back
in civilization and it was a dud. Resignedly, she continued to
drink the beverage, wondering if it was the fever that was making
the coffee taste different or if the upscale coffee chain had
managed to mess up one of her favourite drinks.

After what seemed
like an interminable time, their flight was called. Mel stood,
pleased that she’d had to change from her original Saturday flight
to the one on Friday—Saturday’s hadn’t been able to accommodate
Lucy. The thought of being home in familiar surroundings seemed
immensely comforting and the sooner she was back in Chicago the
better.

Boarding went
smoothly, thank goodness, no one even giving her more than a
cursory glance as she settled into her seat. As the flight took
off, Mel closed her eyes and idly listened to Lucy chattering away.
The pain killers had taken effect and she was pleasantly fuzzy
headed. It actually took her a few moments to realize that Lucy had
finally grown quiet. Opening her eyes and turning her head, she
noticed the other woman was frowning and nibbling on her lip.

“What’s the
matter?”

“Hmm? Oh,
nothing.” Lucy looked away, but Mel could tell something was wrong.
The other woman was seldom quiet for long.

“Come on, tell me.
Are you feeling air sick? Because if you are—”

“No! No... It’s
just...well...I was wondering what he was up to.”

“Ryne?” Mel sat up
straighter. Why was Lucy thinking about Ryne? Hadn’t she been
assured there was nothing between them?

“No! Armand.”

“Armand?” Mel
couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice. She hadn’t been
expecting that.

“Yeah. He was sort
of upset that I was leaving.”

“I thought you
said he was okay with you taking time off?”

“He was... It’s
just that when I went to leave, he...well...he kissed me.”

“Oh.” Mel absorbed
the information. “And...?”

“Armand’s never
kissed me before.” Lucy picked at an invisible piece of lint that
must have been resting on her pant leg.