The next morning in their carriage apartment, Alex spoke on her phone. She ended the call and looked up at Rile. "Are you ready?" She asked as she checked her sword and staff.
Rile also checked his sword and staff, put on his leather duster and Stetson, and then nodded. They started for the main house. Once there, Alex took a deep breath and knocked on the kitchen door. Mary answered it.
"Good morning, dear," she said with a smile.
Her thick silver hair was in an elegant up-do. Her facial features were the classic elegance of French aristocracy: small nose, clean jaw and chin, emerald green eyes.
"You look like Marie Antoinette this early in the morning?" Alex said as she entered. "I think I hate you." She smiled to show that she didn't mean it.
"You said you had something important to tell us and were bringing a guest. Now sit down. I bought croissants from La Madeleine's. Do you want black currant, raspberry, or strawberry jam? What about you, Rile, dear?" Mary waved them to the kitchen table.
"All of the above. With coffee and chicory." Rile sat down with an impudent grin. "Alex isn't authentic enough to like coffee with chicory."
"Jerk," Alex said with affection, taking her own place at the table.
"She doesn't suck crawfish heads, either," Rile said in a mock whisper.
Marie swatted Rile's shoulder. "Stop that, bad boy. Alex is a perfectly authentic Southern girl. Perhaps not Cajun if she doesn't suck the crawfish heads, but we love her as she is."
"Yes, I do," Rile said with a nod of agreement as Mary poured the coffee into mugs.
Dr. Dewey's voice echoed from the stairwell, "Mary? Do I hear Rile and Alex?"
"Yes. They are squabbling like an old married couple and are perfectly darling while doing so." Mary favored them with a triumphant smile.
There was a knock on the front door and Dr. Dewey ushered Grange into the eat-in kitchen brightly lit with the morning sun. The red brick floor gleamed, as did the spotless china in the china cabinet.
"Croissants with jam." Mary indicated the table to Grange. "Figure out which jam isn't poisoned."
Grange smiled. "The one that Rile and Alex are eating."
"You assume their jam came from the jars on the table," Mary said coolly.
"Mary!" Dr. Dewey stared at his normally placid wife.
Alex and Rile watched, eyes wide with shock.
"Mary, Grange will save your life and Dr. Dewey's," Alex said. "Morgan tracked me to your carriage house. Your lifespan is limited unless Grange agrees to my proposal."
"Why didn't you say so?" Mary spread jam on a croissant and bit into it. She handed the jar she had used to Grange. "Would you like coffee with chicory or regular coffee?"
Grange considered for a minute before taking the jar and sitting down at the table with a croissant of his own. He spread some jam before looking up and saying, "I love La Madeleine's. Coffee with chicory, please."
With a nod, Mary moved back into the kitchen to make their drinks.
"I'm in a terrible bargaining position," Alex said to Grange, pleading in her eyes. "What do you want me to do in order to move Dr. Dewey and his wife to safety? I want them set up right, too. Someplace they love. I hear Costa Rica is lovely this time of year."
Dr. Dewey blinked in surprise. "I believe I should have a say in this."
"Of course," Grange replied. "What are your hobbies?"
"Bird watching and sailing," Alex replied. "His wife loves knitting."
Dr. Dewey frowned his professor's frown at her and she went silent. When she batted her eyelashes at him, he humphed and said, "Alex is correct."
"Corpus Christie, Galveston, or would you prefer the South Carolina coast? Or even Costa Rica?" Grange accepted the cup of coffee that Mary handed him.
"What do you think, Mary?" Dr. Dewey looked up at his wife as he took his cup of coffee from her.
Grange took Dr. Dewey's cup of coffee and handed the professor his. Mary pursed her lips.
"I don't think we should take anything from Alex." Mary sat at the table.
"That isn't up for discussion," Alex said. "Your choice is where."
"Trust me, Alex is very determined," Rile said. "This involves Morgan. All rational thought is over and done with. I'm going to kill him. He's a monster who will torture you, Dr. Dewey, and think nothing of raping you, Miz Mary. You two need to be gone, gone, gone. " He savagely chewed a croissant.
Grange cleared his throat and asked, "Corpus Christi, Galveston, or South Carolina coast?" He smiled at them, all amiability, and sipped his coffee.
Dewey and Mary bent their heads together and discussed quietly for several minutes. At last, Mary looked back up at Grange and stated firmly, "South Carolina coast."
Grange nodded. "Leave your house to us. We'll take care of it," he said. "I've got a driver and car ready outside to take you to the hotel. Consider it an early house hunting vacation."
Alex rose from his seat and Rile followed suit.
"Goodbye Dr. Dewey, goodbye Mary," Alex said sadly. "Sorry I ruined your lives."
"It wasn't your fault." Dr. Dewey pushed up his wire-rim glasses.
"Oh, dear, don't say that." Mary drew Alex into a warm embrace, who accepted it but didn't return it. "I'm looking forward to retirement. Now I'll have my husband all to myself."
"Thanks for the place to live," Rile said.
Dr. Dewey smiled at both of them in turn and replied, "And thank you for saving me that night."
Grange looked at his watch.
"We'll pack." Dr. Dewey placed his arm around his wife's waist, and she looked up at him with utter fondness.
Grange walked to the front door and opened it. Two men in suits entered and stood next to Dr. Dewey.
"These two will help you pack and then drive you to the hotel," Grange explained. "I have business with Alex."
"And Rile. He's my partner," Alex said. "Lucky you, it's a two for one deal."
Grange gave
a knowing nod as his car hummed down Carrollton Avenue, peering out the window at the two story house with Wedgewood blue stucco walls and cream stone accents. He parked at the curb.
"That house was divided into four apartments," Grange said, drumming his fingers on the dashboard. "The other three residents are our people and they'll leave you alone. They've been ordered to shoot Morgan on sight."
Alex's lip curled in anticipation as they stepped out of the car, but Rile remained still. He only moved when Alex leaned against him.
"What do you think, Rile?" she asked.
Rile exhaled and looked beyond the house before adjusting his Stetson hat and replying, "I think we need a portal."
Alex grinned. "Don't be grumpy. I owe Grange."
"We owe Grange. If your people shoot Morgan, don't kill him. That honor belongs to me." Rile jammed on his Stetson and exited the car.
"Rile, remember the whole James Bond thing," Alex warned.
Grange put the key in the door and opened it, revealing a small staircase leading up. He carefully stepped up, with Alex following close behind and Rile bringing up the rear after locking the door.
"Home sweet home," Grange announced as he swept his arm across the open space. The living room was dominated by a large flat screen television, with a comfortable-looking couch, two matching love seats, and a recliner all gathered around it.
"There's a small kitchen, two bedrooms, and two and a half baths. Do you want it?" Grange asked the other two.
"If Rile does." Alex said, looking up at him with an expectant expression on her face.
"I want satellite and Wi-Fi." Rile replied without missing a beat.
Alex grinned up at him and took off his Stetson. "He means it. What's my assignment?"
"You'll like it," Grange said as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a smart phone. He tapped the screen before handing it over to Alex. "Muslim terrorists."
Alex took it from him and skimmed it with Rile leaning in to read over her shoulder. A malicious grin spread across her face as she looked up at Grange with determination in her eyes. "Good. They treat their women like dirt. Time for the dirt to get in their eyes."