Time, Death & Scar Tissue...

50. Sharing

Kathryn came down the narrow stairs into the quiet sitting room and started scanning the shelves. They had been back for close to a month and much as she enjoyed her grandmother's company, she was very glad to be back to the insulated quiet of the apartment. She was a little surprised when the door opened, letting in a bit of the sound from the club. She turned quickly.

“I'm sorry.” The dark-haired girl hardly looked old enough to work in the club. She did look very nervous though. “I thought Mr. LaCroix might be in here.” Kathryn noticed the red and blue file folders she was carrying.

“He's still upstairs, he'll be down in a few minutes.” She smiled reassuringly. “Come in and sit down if you like.”

“You don't mind?” She seemed surprised.

“Not at all.” Kathryn smiled. “I'm Kathryn Paige.”

“Amanda Harris.” She smiled shyly and shut the door behind herself.

“Oh, you do the bookkeeping, right?” Kathryn sat and Amanda sat at the opposite end of the sofa. Lucien made sure that met everyone who worked at the club, mostly so she would feel comfortable asking for him if she couldn't find him. She had heard about the new girl who took care of the books in the evenings, but she hadn't met her yet.

“Well, I help out.” Amanda lowered her eyes a little. “That's kind of why I want to talk to Mr. LaCroix, I know I'm new but these numbers just don't add up. Maybe I'm in the wrong job.”

“Well don't blame yourself yet.” Kathryn laughed. “Besides, you're new. I can't imagine you would be expected to know everything right from the start.”

“Thanks.” Amanda smiled a little more. “I hope I didn't interrupt you.”

“No.” Kathryn sighed a little. “I was looking for some information, but I'm starting to think it isn't here. Course maybe it is and I just need a break, I haven't actually taken time to relax in awhile.” She laughed and Amanda's smile widened a little.

“I used to love just going out with friends.” Amanda said hesitantly. “Not even really doing anything special, but just being with other people was nice.”

“You don't do that now?” Kathryn asked.

“I moved recently.” Amanda said, looking away a little. “I haven't really met anyone here yet.”

“My best friend moved back home after Christmas and I haven't started looking for new people to spend time with either.” Corey's new boyfriend worked out so well she had decided to stay in Boston. They still e-mailed every day and talked on the phone, but it wasn't the same as being able to go to dinner with someone every now and then. “Do you like movies?” Kathryn tried to keep the uncertainty out of her voice.

“Yes.” Amanda smiled a little wider, showing dimples for the first time. “Of course I tend to like old movies that no one else wants to see.”

“You mean like Tracy and Hepburn kind of old movies?” Kathryn smiled.

“Yes! You like them too?” Amanda looked Kathryn directly in the eye and held her gaze for the first time since she walked into the room.

“I love them.” Kathryn said. “This week the Sandeford Theater is showing Desk Set, I was going to go alone, but if you'd like to come along, I'd really enjoy that.”

“I'd love to. I have Thursday night off, is that too late?”

“No that's perfect. They always have a six o'clock and nine o'clock showing, I could make the six, but the nine works better for me.” Kathryn searched her pockets for a scrap of paper and, finding none, wrote her name and cell number on a sheet of note paper from Lucien's desk.

“Nine works fine for me.” Amanda looked as excited as Kathryn felt. “I really appreciate this.”

“It'll be fun. That's my cell number, call me if something comes up and we need to change things.” Kathryn smiled.

“Thanks.” Amanda said. Both women turned when there was a soft squeak on the stairs. Amanda jumped to her feet and Kathryn turned further to see Lucien standing there. Kathryn couldn't miss how nervous Amanda looked, but she smiled and stood on her toes to receive his kiss.

“I thought you were working upstairs.” He said, his eyes on Amanda and then turning back to Kathryn. Amanda did her best to fade into the wallpaper.

“I was, and I thought the texts I needed was down here, but I can't seem to find them.”

“What were you looking for?” He asked, completely ignoring Amanda's presence.

“Eyewitness accounts of the flagellants.” She said.

“Years?” He asked.

“European Black Plague pandemic years, late 1340's, early 1350's.” She answered. He thought for a moment.

“The only thing I have down here is in French. There is a volume of collected letters to Pope Clement VI upstairs that's written in Latin. I'm certain there's something in there but it may take a little digging. If you can't find what you need there, I'll help you translate the other information.” He said.

“I'll try not to put you to all that trouble.” Kathryn smiled. “Fourth case, third shelf?” His library was arranged roughly by time period, though she hadn't figured out how he decided what went upstairs and what went downstairs because both covered the ancients through World War II.

“Most likely fourth shelf.” He smiled and stroked her cheek and she inclined her head just enough for her lips to brush over the inside of his wrist.

“Thank you.” She smiled up at him. “I'll leave you two alone. Did you want to meet here or the theater, Amanda?”

“H-here.” She managed.

“Sounds good to me.” Kathryn gave her a reassuring smile and trotted up the stairs, wondering about the effect Lucien had on people.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

LaCroix leaned back against his wide desk and crossed his arms, his eyes on Amanda.

“She invited me.” The girl said in a barely audible whisper.

“And what were you doing here in the first place?” His chilly gaze hadn't shifted.

“I'm having trouble with some of Mr. Pollard's practices.” Her eyes were still down and she kept shifting the file folders in her hands.

“Then why don't you go to him?” The idea for her to work with his bookkeeper was originally Kellen's. Clearly she had a talent for record keeping and it was work that would keep her out of the club itself. John Pollard was mortal, but so were several of his employees. Her contact with him was limited and he trusted her control at least that far.

“Because-” She paused. “I think-”

“If you have something to say, then say it.” He said sharply.

“I think he's stealing.” She said quickly and then recoiled as if the words had stung her lips.

“That's quite an accusation.” He stood straighter. She was already walking forward He took the red folder she offered. Inside he found invoices from a company called Streeter Restaurant Supply that were itemized for cocktail napkins and other incidentals along with their corresponding checks for the given amounts. He was about to demand further explanation when she rushed on.

“I noticed there were two supply companies, but I was only seeing deliveries from one and then when I approximated the amount of usage-”

“Stop.” He held up his hand, flipping through her file. “From that you infer that your superior is dishonest?” She took a deep breath and tried to continue at a more reasonable pace.

“No. I infer that because there is no Streeter Supply in this state and that address don't exist.” He looked up at her and she looked away. “I did find one in Iowa, so I e-mailed them to check on the status of the account and they had never heard of Something Wicked, or you.” She handed him the blue folder. “My e-mails, their responses and a scan of one of their invoices. It's completely different from the ones in the file.”

He held up one of the invoices.

“These are copies. Where are the originals?” He kept his voice detached even though he was impressed with her thoroughness.

“Mr. Pollard keeps them locked up and takes the key to the cabinet with him. I made these one day when he went out and left it unlocked.”

LaCroix got a set of keys from his desk and found the small keys to the filing cabinets. He pointed toward the hall and she walked ahead of him to the office. It was slightly larger than the one in Elsbeth's brothel and not as cheaply furnished. He noted that the lights were at a comfortable level. She pointed to the second cabinet. He handed her the key and she retrieved two folders. One labeled Streeter and the other labeled C&C Catering Supply from the first cabinet as well as several other relevant documents.

“What do you expect to gain from this?” He asked, some of the chill in his voice replaced by just enough curiosity to dull the edge.

“Nothing.” She looked up at him. “I pay my debts too.”

LaCroix nodded and took the documents, and her compiled research back to the sitting room so he could investigate in private. It was unlike him to get involved with the financial minutia of any of his enterprises, that's what he paid others like Pollard for. He sat down and began studying the documents.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kathryn walked down the stairs in a black silk nightgown that he had given her. She hadn't chosen it to please him though, it was the first thing that came to hand. She found him sitting in the dim room, his fingers templed in front of his lips, several piles of paper on his wide desk. When he didn't acknowledge her, she moved a little closer.

“Lucien?” She said uncertainly. He turned slowly.

“What's wrong?” He held out his hand and she walked forward, finding herself eager for his touch after the entire evening apart.

“Nothing, but it's six-thirty in the morning. I was a little worried about you.” She stroked the back of his hand.

“I suppose I lost track of the time.” He pulled her into his lap and Kathryn snuggled close, her legs rested over the arm of the chair. Her lips teasing his for a moment.

“You're upset.” She said.

“It's nothing you need to-”

“Please.” Kathryn was relaxed against him, but that didn't mean her concern had eased. “You were a million miles away, something's on your mind. I might not be able to fix it, but I can listen.” He stroked her thigh softly, as if considering. Her fingers traced light patterns on his scalp.

“Human nature continues to astound me.” He sounded more subdued than usual, although that could have been the hour.

“People do strange things.” She agreed, her voice was as subdued as his. “My father had a client once who killed his wife. He just shot her one morning when she was still sleeping and all he would say about it was that she always said the same thing to him every morning, for the last thirty-five years and he just couldn't face it again.”

“He was convicted?” He asked.

“Yes and no. Daddy worked out a deal where his client went into a mental hospital. Probably the best thing all around. Maybe he could tell someone there what really happened.” Her eyes were closed and he was silent, his fingers stroking up and down over her thigh.

“And if your father's client had stolen from his employer, not a great deal of money, but clumsily enough to be easily noticed by an untrained eye, what would he have said?” Kathryn looked up at him. He had never asked her advice about anything and she carefully considered her response.

“I don't know what my father would say, but I think if this person had been a good employee then the employer might ask him what happened. If he was an asset to his employer and had become desperate about something, maybe he and the employer could work something out. If he wasn't a valuable worker though, the police are always an option.” Her voice was quiet, but sincere.

“What if the employer has never been one to look for reasons behind betrayal?” His finger traced her lips and jawline.

“It wouldn't be my place to tell the employer what he should do, but maybe he would be less hurt by the whole thing -”

“He isn't hurt. He's angry.” Lucien said quickly.

“Of course he's angry, and he has every right to be.” Her eyes were fixed on his. “But if he WAS hurt, it might help if he thought of it as less of a personal betrayal and more an act of desperation, if that is what it was. To know though, he would have to ask.” He kissed her softly, his mouth lingering for a delicious moment.

“Let me turn out the lights down here.” She could tell it was his way of closing the subject. Kathryn got up but held onto his hand for a moment.

“Do you want a bath?” She asked.

“Yes.” He answered. She stood on her toes and kissed him softly before going upstairs to start the water.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

LaCroix felt Kathryn grip his hand in her sleep. She whimpered softly and his arm tightened around her, even though he was on the edge of sleep himself. He was used to the small sounds she made when she needed comfort. Considering she had given him so much comfort only a short time ago, it was the least he could do for her.

He expected that she would join him in the tub, he had made that desire known often enough that he knew he wouldn't have to repeat himself. He hadn't expected her to undress him, or to bathe him, pleasures he was more accustomed to demanding from the indifferent or the unwilling. She would have done more, but exhaustion was etched in deep circles under her eyes and he decided that he could wait for more until they had both rested. In spite of her her protests he dried her and carried her to bed. She was asleep almost before he pulled her close. His lips feathered over the side of her neck before he let deep sleep overtake him.