7 Kills + An Apple

Twenty-Nine: A Will

Finally, Hagan gives her the softest of all smiles. "I know. I'll make sure that happens, Miss Queen. You may see yourself out."

***

At the front desk, I see Kalypso tense up. I follow her gaze and meet her father's eyes. So that is why she is upset again. This time, she glares at her father.

Unsurprisingly, he proves to be one of the rare who are immune to Kalypso Queen's death glare. I don't think even Tami can stand up against it.

"What did you get from Maria?" asks her father. He blows a cloud of cigar smoke onto her face, and then brushes away invisible dirt on his Armani suit. "An estate in the Hamptons? I assume it is something very nice. Did you actually get a billion dollars?"

"We both know that she donated most of her money to charity," says Kalypso, cold and untouchable. Any evidence of her tears are gone, and it is impressive how fast she can clean up. Makes me worried, in fact.

"I doubt she did," says her father. "I'm going to get my lawyers and put forth her real will. Obviously, this one isn't real."

Kalypso takes two steps towards her father, her eyes furious and her fists clenched. In a low, dangerous voice, she snarls, "You do that, and I make sure that not a cent will get to you. What kind of a person takes away money from a charity?"

"She wasn't lucid!"

"That will was made a year before she was diagnosed with Dementia's." Kalypso's nose wrinkles in disgust. "How dare you change what Maria always wanted!"

"It is an outdated will!"

"And I suppose her most recent one will have all of her money donated to you?" Kalypso quirks an eyebrow and finds whatever she was looking for in her father's marble-like face. She nods in satisfaction. "I suspect so."

Her father's gaze then sweeps pass his eldest daughter, as if he can't see her. His cold black eyes meet mine, and then he takes two steps towards me. "Mekal Price, the vintner replacing Manuel Vargas. Well, I hope that you can keep Kalypso anchored. She will one day walk over you when she realizes that you aren't of use to her. I'm warning you." Then he disappears out the front door with a loud bang following his departure.

"Father," she says, wrinkling her nose. "He always had a flair for the dramatics."

"You look like you want to kill him."

She corrects me. "I do want to kill him. Unfortunately, murder is illegal in many countries and I'm not willing to risk my entire life to murder someone so unworthy."

"Oh." I wish someone other than me and the receptionist heard that burn. "Someone should deliver a box of ice to Piero."

She shrugs and then walks out of the door. Together, we go down the elevator. Kalypso starts the car, and I hold her two phones in my hands like precious cargo.

Piero's words roll around my head.

***

We land in Dijon, France without a problem. We already checked in our baggage, and the airline will deliver the bags to Kalypso's townhouse in the city. It is impressive how many real estates and properties one person has. Cara has flown ahead of us and clean up the dust.

Kalypso knocks on the door, and Cara steps out. She has a phone in her hand, and she coos in rapid Spanish to her children. Cara, at first, speaks Spanish. Then she repeats her words in English. "It is done. Everything has been cleaned up. I fixed up the car, and I'm going to fly back to the United States in two hours. Anything else, Kalypso?"

"No. I can handle it from here. The second floor's bathroom is cleared of spiders, right? Don't forget about Minerva's shampoo. She keeps on leaving them around. Make sure there isn't one lying underneath the sink." Kalypso calls on her phone, and she says, "Hello? Minerva? How was your fashion show? I couldn't get any Internet connection on the flight, but I'm sure you slayed the critics."

I stare at Cara, on the footsteps of the villa. "What should I do?"

Cara shrugs. "When Manuel was her vintner, he stayed on the ground floor. Near the kitchen. The townhouse has four unoccupied rooms. Kalypso has the master bedroom. You can pick any of them. Feel free to explore. Just get out of Kalypso's way."

I smile at Cara's words. "Of course, I'll stay out of her way."

Those words that used to be serious and life-or-death are now something I smile at. Kalypso is usually all bark, little bite. Of course, she has never bitten someone in front of me, so I won't know what her bite is like.

I explore the townhouse. There are three floors. The kitchen is grand, and my eyes are absolutely stunned by every single inch of the townhouse. Wool curtains are pulled aside to let the sunlight in. Comfortable armchairs decorated with little grape vines are relaxing to sit in. If I'm an old man, this is what I want to die in. I search through the bedrooms, and I find the master bedroom on the second floor. Kalypso isn't in there, but I peek into the bathroom. Large and grand, as expected. There is a large bathtub, a shower in the corner, two sinks, and a toilet with soft covers. I suppose this is where Kalypso sits and thinks.

A gym is on the first floor, and I cautiously lift one of the weights. I hear footsteps coming in, and I see Kalypso off her phone.

For once, she is not wearing a suit. This time, she is wearing some sort of black jogging clothes. She seems shorter too, but I realize her heels are off. Instead, she has white and pink sneakers on.

"No cell phone?" I tease. My eyes check out her bare arms, and for the first time, I see the muscles that are usually hidden underneath the suit jacket. Her shorts cut to mid-thigh, and her milky, pale legs have muscles too. She reminds me of a female soldier back in the Navy. Deadly, dangerous, and not to be underestimated.

"It is after hours." She shrugs and pulls a green yoga mat off the shelf. "If they really need me, they can just call Helen. She can take care of anything."

"You trust her."

"I trust Helen very much," she says, agreeing with my words. She sits down and starts doing sit-ups. She easily crushes it, not stopping for a minute. Then two.

"You said you know self-defense."

"Yeah." She nods and then flips over to do push-ups. I try not to impolitely stare at her for too long. I look down at my suit, realizing I'm not wearing proper clothing. I sit down at the bicycle machine and glance at the wall.

She huffs. "Want me to show you some moves?"

I know that I definitely should. For my job, I mean.

"Sure."

"You better go and change."

"Yeah," I agree.