A Hidden Fire

Carwyn had been leaning against the wall, looking out the dark windows with a finger tapping his chin.  Suddenly, he smiled wickedly.  “Oh, Giovanni.  Virgil himself would be impressed with your virtue.  He’s doing it because he’s a clever, clever boy.  And clever boys who want to clean money might just use a private auction to do it.”

Giovanni let loose a string of Italian curses and slapped a hand on the table, scaring the cat, who jumped off his lap and ran upstairs.

“What does he do?” Beatrice asked.

They both looked at her as if they’d forgotten she was there.

“I mean…that’s laundering money, right?  That’s what you’re talking about?  Don’t drug dealers do that kind of thing?  Is he a drug dealer?”

Carwyn shrugged.  “He’s got his hands in any number of fairly dirty pots.  Smuggling mostly, and other types of clandestine shipping.  Not all of it necessarily illegal, but most of it…questionable.  I wouldn’t be surprised if he has his fingers in drugs or anything else.  The question is – why does he need some of his funds clean at this point?”

“He won’t need it to find her father.  He has other channels for that.  He’s planning something,” Giovanni muttered, frowning again and biting a lip in concentration as he studied the printouts in front of him.  “In the human world?  Something legitimate?”

Carwyn was still tapping his chin.  “Whatever it is, it has something to do with the books.”

“Why?” she asked.

Giovanni was sitting silently at the table, shaking his head. “Too much coincidence.  To many pieces moving at once,” he muttered.  “Her father.  My books.  The letters.  Now the money…” He kept muttering to himself as suspicion grew in her mind.

Her father.  Giovanni’s books.  Lorenzo stole the books and wanted her father.  A connection started to tickle the back of her brain, but she shoved it to the side for the moment and turned to Carwyn.

“Isn’t it easier to do that stuff electronically?  Laundering money?  Why is he doing it through auctions?”

Carwyn chuckled.  “I’m sure it is, and someone with half a fool’s worth of knowledge in electronic markets could do it better than he could.  But he’s not all that up on digital technology, I’m betting.”

“He’s not, though I’m sure he thinks he is.  Lorenzo was always overconfident.  He was never very good at adaptation.  Many immortals aren’t,” Giovanni said.  “I know some vampires who took fifty years or so to even start driving a car.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes.  “You crazy international men of mystery, you.”

Giovanni chuckled and looked at her.  “You think we’re backward, you should meet—”

“Tenzin!” the priest yelled then lowered his voice, looking over his shoulder at the kitchen door, as if suddenly remembering the humans in the house.  “Oh, she’s the worst, isn’t she?  Has she ever been in a car?  I’ve never seen it.  And I can’t even imagine her getting in a plane.”

Giovanni snorted.  “I got her in a carriage once in India, and she nearly kicked the door down getting out so fast.”

Beatrice just listened to them talk about their friend, intensely curious about the woman who seemed to inspire such simultaneous awe and affection.

“How does she get around if she doesn’t drive or fly?  Does she walk everywhere?” she asked.

They both stopped chuckling and looked at her.  Carwyn winked.  “Who says she doesn’t fly?”

Her jaw dropped.  “No freaking way!”

“‘Like a bird,’” the priest sung under his breath.  “So bloody convenient controlling air, isn’t it?”

“Carwyn,” Giovanni muttered in warning.  “Not your place.”

“Oh, B won’t say anything when she meets her, will you?  Besides, I imagine Tenzin’s already seen her in a dream or two anyway.  She probably knows Beatrice better than she knows herself.”

Giovanni huffed and began putting his documents away.  “Ignore him.  It’s getting late.  You should probably get your grandmother home.”

She rolled her eyes.  “That’s right.  Don’t want to get the kids in bed too late, do we?  Besides, if we get in too late, our friendly neighborhood surveillance guys might start sweating in their minivan.”  She had begun teasing Giovanni about their guards after her initial discomfort about them wore off.  Now, she liked knowing they were there.

“Well, B.  This is goodbye for now,” Carwyn walked over to embrace her.  “But not goodbye forever, you must promise.”

She let herself be enveloped by the mountain of a man who had become a trusted friend and confidante over the last four months.  She had known he was leaving the next night—though she had no idea how any of them traveled—and Beatrice struggled to hold in the tears that wanted to escape as she hugged him.

“Now, now, darling girl.  Just let me know when I need to come and rescue you from boredom, all right?”  She laughed against his chest and felt him squeeze her just a little tighter.  “I’m only a phone call away.”

“I’m going to miss you so much,” she whispered.  “You’ll be back?”