Henri - 12

 

 

"Call me when you're finished," Miranda told Henri when they dropped him off in front of Taegan's home. "We're going shopping." She grinned at John's groan of disgust. "You will survive, my dear."

 

"Uh-huh," John muttered.

 

Henri watched them drive away, noting they stopped longer than necessary at the corner. It made him feel better to know they were there, even though he was certain Xavier wouldn't try anything in broad daylight on a busy street. That thought didn't keep him from swiftly entering the gallery.

 

"Ah, there you are," Taegan said, ceasing his discussion with what Henri presumed was one of his employees. "Come. My car is out back."

 

Henri was surprised to see Taegan's car was a normal, everyday SUV. For whatever reason, he had expected at least a Jag or a Mercedes.

 

"I've had ritzy cars," Taegan said when Henri asked. "They were worse than useless for hauling things I need for the gallery. Yes, I do grunt work as well as meeting and greeting favored clients. It's part of the reason I'm successful, I suspect. I'm very much hands-on."

 

"The best way to be," Henri agreed, having no other response that wouldn't make him sound foolish. He kept his gaze locked on the sideview mirror, trying to determine if anyone was following them.

 

"Relax," Taegan said. "We're fine. I'm taking the long way around to where we're going. If our friend tries to tail us, he'll be SOL. I do know what I'm doing."

 

Henri chuckled. "Your secret agent gene kicking in?"

 

"I was a spy during the War Between the States," Taegan replied. "Of course, back then, I wasn't driving a car, looking for anyone trying to figure out where I was headed."

 

After studying him for a moment, Henri said, "You're serious, aren't you?"

 

"About cars? Sure. They didn't come into general use until the turn of the century." He winked at Henri. "But that's not what you meant. Yes, I was a spy, for the Confederacy. Not a bad one either, if I do say so myself."

 

As they talked, Taegan made several turns, rights and lefts, then declared, "We're safe enough now." He took another right and two minutes later they pulled up down the block from a house Henri recognized from the Realtor's website.

 

"Let's take a walk first," Taegan said. "Check out the neighborhood."

 

When they got to the block behind the house, Henri saw there was a tall privacy fence at the back of the building, separating it from the field that stretched from there to where they stood. A chain-link fence ran along the side of the house to the street, effectively protecting the stairs leading up to the apartment, while not hiding the view of the rest of the field.

 

"Now let's go meet your landlady," Taegan said when they were in front of the house again.

 

"My presumed landlady," Henri pointed out.

 

"Presumed." Taegan smiled as they went up the porch stairs and he rang the bell.

 

An older woman came to the door. She looked them over with a jaundiced eye until Henri said, "I'm here about the apartment."

 

Her whole demeanor changed as she stepped aside. "Come in. Come in. I'm Mrs Dean, and you are?"

 

Henri introduced himself and Taegan, as they followed her into a small office, at the foot of a flight of stairs, off to the side of the living room. "Tell me a bit about yourself," she said, at the same time that she began digging through a desk drawer. Henri barely got his mouth open to do so when she held up a set of keys. "I knew I'd put them in here. Come on. I'll show you the place. It was just redone about a month ago. My last tenant… Well, he wasn't very neat, to say the least."

 

By then, they were back outside the house. She took them up the outside stairs, telling Henri they were the only way to access the apartment. "So, you'll have all the privacy you want," she commented, unlocking the door.