Chapter 33
"It tastes a bit like honeyed pears," Elena said taking a sip from the paper cup. The bottle the drink came out of was clear glass and showed off the golden liquid well. Alien letters were inscribed across the glass in black. She scraped her nail against the glass and was pleased to see part of the lettering flake off.
"That was my take as well," Andre said. The adaptation to the upper floors had been complete and they were sitting at the conference table. Various goods surrounded them and they were trying to figure out names, and details for the new products. Products they had already been through lined the shelves off to one side and a stack of potential labels and advertisements mounted to press board were leaning against the wall. In the past ten weeks Andre had done an amazing amount of work.
"It is a bit too sweet to drink on its own," Elena commented.
"Yeah," Andre agreed. "Whenever we had it we always mixed it with either vodka or club soda. Sometimes it was added to a dry champagne if it was a festive thing."
"You know," Elena said thoughtfully. "We have several drink concoctions that would make good mixers. Perhaps we could have a selection of cocktail additives." Elena stood up and retrieved several different bottles from the shelves. The bottles were similar, but the drinks they contained differed. One tasted a bit like strawberries, one was tart like cranberries with a dash of lemon. She arranged the bottles on the table. "The shapes of the bottles are nearly identical."
"And we could put notes on the label about mixing for both alcoholic and non-alcoholic consumption." Andre made a note. Elena attached a tag stating the flavor of the drink in the bottle and began setting them back on the shelves. From downstairs the steady pounding of hammers thudded and a buzz saw whined. The air was heavy with the sharp tang of freshly cut wood. While the upstairs had been completed the downstairs was still under construction. The work was almost done. Nibbles, as the store would be named would soon be ready to open.
"I think that's the last of what we have," Andre said looking around. "I should have some ideas for the drink labels complete by the time Peter and Mr. Calabrese get here." He stood and stretched. Elena admired way the material stretched across his chest before deliberately reminding herself he was off limits. Andre smiled and reached for the coffeepot to refill his cup. He refilled hers automatically as well before setting it down. Elena had been pleased to find he was as big a caffeine junky as she was. Elena took a sip.
"That will be great," she said. "That way we can get a consensus before we go to print. You have worked really hard on this. Thanks for putting in all the extra hours."
"Like you haven't put them in as well," he said with a smile. "At least I didn't have to work the floor during holiday rush as well as work with this. And thank god I didn't have to meet with Smith and Co." Elena smiled.
"True, this wasn't exactly the best timing. But Valentine's Day would make the perfect opening." She sipped her coffee. In truth between the holiday rush, military meetings, taste testing and all the little details needed to open the store Elena was feeling a bit worn thin. Christmas day had been the only day with nothing scheduled and she had basked in the idleness and solitude with the one call to her grandfather the only interruption. Squeezing details about printers in between Smith's briefings was not an easy chore.
"Last week I asked Smith if his ships were in full color or just black and white," She commented. Andre snickered.
"What did he say?"
"He asked me if that was code for anything." Andre laughed and took another sip of coffee.
"Jonathan still asking you out?" Andre tilted a half smile her way at the question.
"Yeah," she admitted. "But he is only doing his job." Elena shrugged. She had decided to take Jonathan's multiple coffees, drink, and dinner invitations in stride. Andre laughed.
"Oh yeah," he said. "I'm sure taking you to the movies is a military directive." Andre shook his head at her.
"Probably not," she admitted. "I wouldn't put it past Smith to suggest it though. And I can't see him being displeased." She gestured with her coffee mug at Andre.
"Fair enough," he admitted. "So when is everyone getting in?" he asked letting the subject of Jonathan drop.
"Next Wednesday," she said. A secure port had been located about three hours away. Her grandfather would be bringing the Wind Dancer, Peter would be on his ship, Gregori's Dream and a crew from the council shipyard would be bringing the Storm Chaser. Both the Wind Dancer and Gregori's Dream would be heavily laden with goods bought from the families to go directly to the repackaging area located a few miles from the docks. These would be the first goods on the shelves of Nibbles, with replacements soon to follow once the channels reopened. It wasn't the thought of the new store that made her grin though.
"A pilot through and through," Andre said.
"What?" Elena asked.
"That grin. You can't wait to be on board the Storm Chaser."
"Well it is my ship," she said. "My very first ship." Her voice took on a dreamy quality and Andre laughed and shook his head.
"Pilots." Elena stuck out her tongue at him. "So have you told Smith when the ships are getting in?"
"No," Elena said shaking her head. "He would insist on coming down to the docks and then more than likely demand to search all three."
"I can imagine how well that would go over," Andre said thinking of his cousin. Elena grimaced.
"I imagine missing limbs would be the end result of that."
"Probably," Andre agreed. "Peter can sometimes be?"
"Black Pete?" Elena suggested. Andre snorted.
"They don't call him that for his hair color."
"I suppose not. Anyway it will be several more weeks before the Marta will be passable so they will come into town and we'll get all of this business settled. Then on the appointed day we will drive down to the docks where only the Wind Dancer will be in sight."
"Sounds like a plan. Are they staying with you?" Elena let out a bark of laughter at the question.
"No thank god." She said. "There is no way all of us would survive that. Besides I don't think Peter and grandfather would enjoy sharing my pull-out couch."
"Definitely not." Andre thought about it a minute and a grin split his face. "Oh most certainly not." The smile dropped from his face abruptly. "They aren't staying here are they?"
"They are staying in a hotel," Elena clarified.
"Good. Would you mind if I rode down with you?"
"Not at all," she commented. "I'd like the company."
"Good." Andre smiled and Elena had to again remind herself that Andre was off limits. Their relationship was only a business one. Which in her opinion was a damn shame. Elena was saved from finding a response by the ringing of her cell phone. She glanced at the number and saw it was the store. Immediately, she felt guilty. The store was still quite busy and her she was pseudo-flirting with an off limits guy. Reminding herself that she had hired a manager so she didn't need to be there all the time didn't stop the feelings of guilt.
"Hello," she answered.
"Elena, this is Emily. There is a man here to see you."
"Oh," Elena said. "I didn't think I had any appointments today. Did he say who he was with?" She stood and mentally rifled through her files.
"I don't think he is a client," Emily said. "And he looks kind of mad."
"Mad?" Elena asked.
"Yeah he said his name was Smith." Elena sighed. This could not end well.
"All right, I'll be right down." Elena looked at the racks of good on the shelves. Luckily the shelves were on wheels and could be rolled out of the conference room. "Do you think we can move those out?" She asked Andre. "Smith is apparently here and looks mad. Although that is his normal state, I would rather not have a conversation with him in public."
"Sure I can do that. Do you want me to hang around?"
"That would be great," Elena said.
She didn't really like the thought of being alone with Smith any more than she had to be. Elena went downstairs as Andre began removing the alien goods from the room. She passed the workmen who gave her a friendly wave. A couple of them were putting together some shelves and display cases. Already with the ceiling and walls painted the pace looked more welcoming. The same could not be said for Smith. He was standing by the counter frowning at Emily.
"May I help you," she said. The voice had more snap in it than she used for customers. She did not like the man glaring at her employees.
"I most certainly hope so, Ms. Calabrese." Several of the end of the day customers had stopped their browsing to pay attention to the exchange and Max and TJ started forward.
"Perhaps you would care to have this conversation in a more private space?" she asked icily. Smith seemed to notice the attention for the first time. He nodded and Elena gestured out the door. Max started to open his mouth.
"Andre is upstairs," she told him. "I won't be meeting with him alone." She could see both Max and TJ relax a bit. 'Men,' she thought fondly. Smith was tapping his foot outside the front doors. Elena hoped the brisk wind would cool him down. She stepped outside and led him back up to the conference room. Several pairs of eyes followed her and Smith narrowed his eyes in assessment.
"You seem to have collected quite a following of protective individuals," he said as they climbed the stairs to the second floor.
"It certainly seems that way," she said, smiling to herself. "I wonder how that happened?" They entered the conference room and Andre sat sketching out designs in his notepad. Elena could see they were for the drinks line they had talked about earlier.
"I like the sort of art deco lettering," she said looking over his shoulder. "Makes it seem a little more glamorous. Like Old Hollywood. Andre this is Smith. Smith, Andre." Andre put down his pencil and extended his hand towards Smith. Smith shook it briskly and then stared at Andre.
"What was it you wanted to speak with me about?" Elena asked, seating herself at the table. She picked up the coffee she had left earlier and took a sip. She winced as the cold coffee hit her tongue and reached over to add more to add more heat to the cup.
"I suppose he is of the Guild?" Smith said pulling out a chair and sitting down.
"After a fashion," Andre said pleasantly.
"He is aware of the current situation if that is what you are asking," Elena informed him. Smith nodded once.
"Then I suppose he knows all about Ian Jensen?"
"I know he sold you shoddy designs." Andre commented. He picked up his pencil and continued to sketch. Andre had been present when Mateo called to comment on Ian's designs. Elena had put it on speakerphone since Andre was in the room and he and Mateo had crossed paths a few times in the past. Both men had found Ian amusing and seemed to find the fact that he had scammed the military even more amusing. Since Elena had to deal with the fallout, she was less amused.
"So I've been told," Smith said tightly. Mateo had also sent over a copy of the schematics she had sent him with many comments scrawled over them. Smith had not been amused. Production work on the second ship had been halted indefinitely, or so she had been told.
"You needed to speak with me?" Elena prompted. The anger returned to Smith's face.
"Yes. About Ian Jensen."
"What about him?" Elena said, puzzled. "The council decided since it was military personnel he had gotten killed that you should be in charge of any disciplinary hearings. They released him into your custody weeks ago."
"And that is the end of the matter?" Smith asked. His eyes looked hot enough to spark a fire.
"As far as I'm concerned. Why?" Elena had a sneaking suspicion something bad had happened.
"And can you account for your where abouts last night and early this morning?" Elena raised an eyebrow at the question.
"I don't see why that's relevant."
"Indulge me," Smith said. Elena shrugged.
"I went with some friends to grab a couple of drinks and dinner, you know a girl's night out sort of thing last night and then I've pretty much been here all day. Does that help you?"
"And you?" Smith asked, swinging his gaze towards Andre.
"Well I'm sorry to say I missed the girl's night out. I sacked out with a pizza and some bad horror movies. Other than that same as her."
"Care to tell us why the Perry Mason act?" Elena asked. Her stomach was twisting into knots. She kept her voice calm and her hands folded neatly in front of her, carefully not clenching her hands to make the knuckles white. Her grandfather made her practice the calm face for negotiation purposes from the time she first moved in with him after her parents died.
"Ian Jensen was found dead this morning."
"How did he die?" She asked, her voice level.
"Apparently, he slipped in the shower and bled to death."
"And you think one of us was in the shower with him?" Elena asked. Smith's eyes narrowed.
"You are the only two Guild member's in town."
"As far as I know," Elena said, although personally she wasn't willing to bet on it. No one in the Guild would have liked Ian's release without punishment. She also knew no one would have told either her or Andre about Ian in the event this sort of questioning came up. "Has his family been notified of this accident?" Smith's eyebrows rose in question.
"You believe it was an accident?"
"I don't believe he would slip in the shower and bump his head on purpose," Elena responded.
"Was he drunk?" Andre asked.
"There is some belief that he had ingested a chemical concoction before the incident."
"I thought it took a while to get a coroner's report," Andre said. "At least it seemed that way on the cop shows."
"He died on base. We have our own doctors."
"So Ian was stoned and fell down in the shower. And you think somehow we snuck onto a military base and pushed him?" Andre asked. "Did your doctor suspect foul play of some sort?" Smith grimaced.
"I don't like the timing."
"Which means that everyone else thinks it was an accident, but you still want to blame us."
"I'm not a killer, Mr. Smith," Elena said. "And I think you need to leave now." Elena stood. "I'll walk you out." She walked around the table and out of the door. She didn't look back. Behind her she heard Smith get to his feet and follow her. She led him to the front door and opened it.
"I will see you at our next meeting." She told him. He stepped outside and she closed the door. For a second she leaned on the closed doors with her eyes closed, knowing the paper covering the glass would block the sight of her from street view. She had little believe that Ian's death was accidental. "And I don't want to even guess how they got on base." She opened her eyes.
"Are you okay?" One of the men, James, asked her. She smiled weakly.
"Yeah, I'm okay. I just don't like being blamed for things I didn't do."
"I hear that," he said. Elena opened the door and stepped back outside. It was a little past closing time and all of the customers had gone. Her staff was circling idly. TJ was adjusting a lampshade that didn't need adjusting. And Max was sweeping an already swept floor. She shook her head and smiled. They really were a great crew.
"He's gone now," she told them.
"Who was he?" Emily asked. Elena had known the question was coming.
"Someone who is not terribly thrilled with my family," she told them. "He was angry with one of them and couldn't find him so he decided to yell at me. No big deal."
"Well I personally don't like him," Emily said in a huff as she struggled to button her coat over her bulging belly. Elena thought she looked almost ready to pop.
"That's what I like about you Emily, your open mind. You're not still driving are you?"
"No Steve insisted, even though I still fit behind the wheel," she answered somewhat grumpily. As if summoned, Steve pulled up to the curb. Elena gave a
wave to him as Emily struggled into the car. One by one the rest of the staff left. She locked up and returned to the second building. The workmen were packing up and calling it a day as well. She watched them file out and then locked the door behind them. Elena returned to the conference room where Andre was once again drawing. He looked up as she walked in.
"You know it wasn't an accident," he said.
"Yeah, I know."
"This is why I went to art school," he told her leaning back and running his fingers through his hair. "I always hated this crap."
"Me too." Elena looked out of the window for a moment. "I suppose we should call and tell someone to tell Alex Barton."
"Who?"
"The council member who heads his family."
"You think he doesn't already know?" Elena turned towards Andre and let out a sigh.
"He probably does. But still I suppose it should be called in." Elena picked up her cell phone and stared at it for a second wondering if she should call her grandfather or Peter. She decided to call Peter. Technically she could say it was because he was her contact while dealing with the military and that her grandfather rarely remembered to turn on the phone when he wasn't expecting a call. The real reason however was that she didn't want to hear if her grandfather wasn't surprised by the death.
"Peter," she said as he picked up the phone. "Ian Jensen is dead. It is believed he was high or drunk or something and slipped in the shower."
"Really," Peter said. His voice sounded vaguely amused. Elena ground her teeth.
"We don't know if the family has been notified, but figured you would tell Mr. Barton who could convey the information where it needs to be."
"They harassed you over this," Peter replied. All of the humor had drained from his voice.
"Both of us yes," Elena replied.
"I see. This will be dealt with. Think no more of it." Peter hung up the phone. Elena pulled it away from her ear and listened to the dial tone.
"I don't think I like the sound of that."
"What did he say?" Andre asked. Elena relayed the conversation. Andre frowned at the humor and then turned a speculative gaze at Elena.
"He likes you," he informed her.
"What?"
"He likes you."
"He finds me useful," Elena clarified.
"True," Andre agreed. "But he also likes you." Elena frowned at him and Andre held his hands up. "He never gets ticked off when I'm hassled over Guild business."
"And how often are you hassled over Guild business?"
"Not often," Andre admitted with a smile. "Wanna stay and order pizza for dinner?"
"Didn't you have pizza last night?"
"You can never have too much pizza," he told her. "You can also not have too many bad horror flicks. I think I have a couple I didn't get around to last night. Nothing erases a bad day like a grade b horror flick."
"True," she said nodding. "That sounds like a good plan."