My son arrived to ‘take care of me’ soon afterwards, baffled and in an irritable mood. Apparently, he was in the midst of a lunch with Cassandra, his Gothic girlfriend.
“What’s this all about?” He demanded, after he had stormed into my home. His face was flushed, his eyes were wild and angry and his temper was tempted to be as stormy as a darkened sea.
“Steve…” I whispered, my throat dry even after the coffee, “Please don’t be angry.”
He visibly cooled.
“I’m not angry… But when some weird lady calls me up to tell me that your life might be in danger, I have the right to be suspicious. And why aren’t you at the spa? This is all ridiculous. Tell me it’s some sort of crazy joke.”
I sighed, again.
“It’s complicated, but Steve, I think that whoever killed your father is after me too.”
“Not a family grudge? Then he’ll be after me… And Cass!”
“Steven, calm down! They won’t be after you…unless you start investigating my death.”
“You’re not dead yet,” Steven objected, but then he twigged on what I was saying, and his jaw dropped. “You’re investigating my father’s death? Since when? You don’t believe in the ‘murder’, do you?”
“Before you say ‘I told you so’, it wasn’t you who inspired me. It was Minerva.”
“Minerva? Now where have I heard that name before…?” He mused.
“You’ve heard the name before?” I boggled.
“Someone told me, in passing. I don’t remember who or when. Sorry. Anyway, what happened to the spa visit?”
“Really, don’t ask! Let’s just say that I won’t trust their staff again.”
“Did they…try to kill you?” Steven exclaimed.
Hmm, it’s not everyday that you get to answer that question truthfully.“I think so. Believe it or not, I didn’t even know…”
Silence split through our conversation, a bolt of lightening into the unsatisfied sea of our chilling words.
“Sit down, Steven,” I muttered, gesturing to the seat beside myself, “I want to talk to you.”