The drive from Titan's forest home to the city of Buffalo took less than two hours, and we arrived just ahead of the morning rush. Vincent had been mostly quiet during the trip, but he answered my questions without complaint. I knew whatever I learned would help me navigate the confrontation that was about to go down with Joseph Tavares, the gollum who helped bury my mother and the same gollum who kept Marco out of hot water by claiming to be my father.
Vincent and I made guesses about the kind of relationship Joseph had with Marco, but based on the secrets between them, we doubted it was all smiles and family vacays to the beach. Since we were arriving under the radar, Vincent and Joseph arranged to meet in a remote location outside the city. After parking the Bentley at a small nature preserve, Vincent used the directions Joseph gave him to cut a path through the wilderness toward our destination.
"Do you have to use your phone to navigate coordinates?" I asked as I watched Vincent stare at his cellphone screen.
"Who says I'm navigating coordinates."
"Don't tell me you're checking Twitter." I smiled at him and nearly tripped over a root as the route he chose grew more dangerous.
"Keep your eyes on the path. We're nearly there."
"If this is a path, I'm the Queen of Sheeba."
"A path is where you make it."
"Could you make it a little less perilous before I break an ankle."
Vincent shushed me as he pointed through the trees. Just ahead, dressed in an oversized parka with fur-lined hood, a man stood beneath the limb of a gigantic tree. "Your ankles are saved, my queen." He pocketed his phone to hold my hand, guiding me over brambles and the massive root system of the tree. "Joseph, it has been a long time," Vincent said as he stretched out his arm in greeting.
It took Joseph a moment to locate his hand, which was hidden inside his coat sleeve, and he looked nervous as he offered it to Vincent. "Hello, Vincent. I have been waiting for this day to arrive, but I am no less a free gollum. The circle has merely widened." He said this with a sober nod, like a man resigned to a horrible fate, and Vincent responded with a dubious head tilt.
"Joseph, I want you to meet my mate, Reese Kentwell. Reese, this is Joseph Tavares."
"Nice to meet you, Joseph." My greeting prompted a warm smile to grace Joseph's round, pink face as it peeked out from his hood. He looked like a cherub with a fur-lined halo.
"It's nice to meet you, too. I remember when you were just a toddler, but I'm sure you don't remember me. I suppose you're here for the same reason as Vincent? To find out if the story Titan told you is true."
"Yes."
"Well, it is. I didn't see Marco commit the crime himself, but I witnessed the aftermath."
"Just because Titan had the decency to bury Reese's mother doesn't prove his innocence," Vincent said.
"I felt that way too, after I returned home. Marco was already spreading the story about Titan committing both murders and escaping into a hole, and I was apprehensive about revealing my encounter with Titan. As the turmoil died down, I started to question whether my comrade could have done such an unforgiveable thing."
"But you helped Titan bury my mother," I said. "If Titan killed her, why would he go through the pain and trouble to bury her?"
"I don't think Titan killed your mother. I believe Marco was to blame for her death. I knew he had had fallen out of love with her, and he was tired of maintaining the lie, so he encouraged her to flee to Manhattan. Roberto and Wren faced a lot of adversity to accommodate you and your mother, but it was all just a set-up that only Marco was in on. I don't believe he planned to kill Roberto. That probably happened because he was forced to cover his tracks."
"At what point did you decide to believe Titan's story over Marco's?" Vincent asked, tenacious as ever.
"When word got out that I investigated the fire that killed Roberto, Marco got suspicious. He paid a visit to my domus, and after a few glasses of scotch, the conversation turned ugly. I threatened to expose him and he threatened to eradicate every member of my domus, starting with my son, Peter, who was twelve at the time. That was the beginning of a relationship that has haunted me every day since."
Joseph glanced down at his boots as he tapped a tree root with the reinforced toe. "I apologize for taking you off the path, Reese," he said, looking up at me. "I brought you to this location for a reason. I thought you might want to pay tribute to your mother. Titan chose this tree to bury her under."
He waved his hand at the sprawling goliath beside us. The tree had grown so round you'd think it lived off a diet of soda and donuts, and the bark looked like varicose veins from all the saturated fat. I guessed the tree to be female because her arms reached in every direction, looking for a body to hug, and as I swallowed the lump rising in my throat, I moved closer, walking up to the trunk and pressing my cheek to an ancient gnarl. I pictured it as the mouth of the tree, and I imagined my mother speaking through it. She called me Paolo Flamma.
"What do you plan to do with this information, Vincent?" Joseph asked. "You know the truth will destroy many lives."
"That is a given," said Vincent. "What would you have me do? Remain silent, as you have?"
Joseph stared at Vincent with large, brown eyes. He seemed tired and forlorn, which wasn't a good look for a cherub. "Wouldn't you stay silent to protect your family?"
"I would pull my resources to protect them and bring a gollum to justice," Vincent told him unapologetically. "You are not alone in this, Joseph. You have allies."
"When you discover your closest comrade is capable of murdering his own, you start doubting the allegiance of every friend you have. Trust me, Vincent. I have lived with that burden for more years than I care to remember, and I have felt alone for all of them."
"And I am standing here now, forgiving you for your silence and pledging my allegiance to you and your family if you help me expose Marco for the murderous traitor he is."
"But what evidence do we have? It is only my word and the word of a rogue demon. Unless we can show conclusive proof, the risk of exposing him will be greater than the reward."
"Will it?"
The four of us stood there in silent contemplation; Vincent, Joseph, me, and my mother. Was there really nothing to be done? Had evidence of Roberto's murderer gone up in flames with him?
Vincent pressed his palm to a tree limb as it reached for the ground, and he leaned on it. "There has to be something, and I plan to give it my full attention until I come up with enough evidence to hang him from the highest tree. Maybe this tree."
Joseph nodded slowly as he accepted his fate. "I will support you any way I can." His eyes softened as they sought me out, and a smile tweaked his lips when he noticed my arms wrapped around the tree. "Your mother was a special soul, Reese. She had a feisty and passionate side that never failed to keep her comrades amused, and she only aligned with those who supported her. But Gabbie was blinded by love when it came to Marco. She never would have taken such a risk if she suspected there would be foul play."
"Maybe she felt like she didn't have a choice," I said. "She had distanced herself from the demons and aligned with the gollums. Marco was probably the reason."
Joseph's smile vanished and a scowl passed over his face. "Yes, he was, and I want you to know that I felt like I lost a sister the day your mother died. Do you remember her at all?"
"No." I lowered my eyes to the bed of decomposing leaves beneath my feet, wishing I had more to say, and when I looked up again, Joseph appeared to be lost in thought himself.
"Vincent, did your father's lapel pin ever turn up?" he asked absently.
"No, we've done extensive searches and there is nothing matching the pin's description on record anywhere. Why do you ask?"
"I often think Marco took it off Roberto as a memento of his kill. At times, I've been tempted to look through Marco's personal effects when I'm at the Bourdain domus. That bit of evidence could prove useful."
"If you're right, that would explain why we can't locate it," Vincent said sulkily. "But all Marco has to do is deny you found it in his home. Keep thinking."
~ ~ ~
With sleep being something of an afterthought during our tour of the Great Lakes region, Vincent decided we needed to stop for a decent meal and comfortable rest. So, true to form, he booked us a room at a four star hotel with a view of Niagara Falls. We ordered filet mignon from the room service menu, and on a whim, I asked him to eat in the nude with me. He optioned for undergarments only, and I conceded. I knew I'd be getting all of him later.
To complement the excess of the evening, Vincent ordered a bottle of Rothschild that must have set him back a thousand bucks, but he felt it was well-deserved after the life-changing revelations we'd endured, and I agreed there was no better time to enjoy a glass after two years of abstinence. The wine arrived in a crystal carafe, and I indulged in the experience, admiring the dark red liquid as it decanted during our semi-nude dinner. Then I watched Vincent pour the wine into fancy glass goblets etched with a scrolling S.
"You've been a bad influence on me," I said.
"I think you have that turned around." He smiled sweetly as he handed me my wine. "If we're going to do this properly, I want you to smell the bouquet before you take a drink. Have you ever attended a wine tasting?"
"Once with Sylvie, but I don't count it because we were at a dive bar helping the bar manager decide between the cheap stuff and the cheaper stuff."
Vincent's smile widened. "I'm sure there's an entertaining story that goes along with that, but we'll skip it for now. Think of this as your first taste of wine. You're starting fresh. No need to drag guilt into it. Okay?"
"Okay."
I brought the glass to my nose and he did the same. The first scent to hit me made me think of a cedar chest, the kind you put important things in so they don't get eaten by moths. After that, I picked up a couple spices, exotic ones you'd use in curry. Buried underneath was a berry, but I didn't know which one.
"What do you smell?" he asked.
"Cedar first. Then savory spices. And there's a berry in there, but I don't know which one."
"Black raspberry. You've done this before."
"My parents entertained a lot when Theo and I were growing up. They never had wine tastings, but they taught us how to appreciate it. Then we appreciated it too much."
Vincent narrowed his eyes. "Starting fresh, remember? Let's move on to tasting the wine." He tipped the rim of his glass over his lips and let some of the dark liquid flow into his mouth. I watched him savor it, imagining his tongue tasting every flavor all the way to the berry. He did nothing halfway.
With the attitude of starting fresh, I lifted my glass to join him, taking in a small mouthful. As expected, the taste hit me like an explosion of fermented perfection. Not too bitey, not too sweet, and I swirled it around my mouth, bathing my tongue it. I finally allowed the liquid to slip down my throat, and it blazed a warm trail all the way to my belly.
"Now that's what I call a rush," I said as I breathed out the lingering vapor.
"Well spoken. I hope to bring you many rushes over your lifetime."
"I get a rush every time I look at you," I offered with a coy smile. "You said you had a feeling we were destined to be together the night we met at the club. Well, I had the same feeling. Volo carnalis."
"Carnal desire." Vincent spoke over the lip of his glass just before he took another sip. This time our eyes locked as I watched him savor the wine, knowing his tongue was experiencing its own form of orgasm. The exchange was closer to a strip tease than a simple drink, and my eyelids grew heavy as they responded to the lust spiking inside me.
I took my second drink and started the process again, while Vincent's gray eyes brightened to silver as he watched me. When I swallowed, he kissed me, hard and passionately, and I held tightly to my expensive glass of wine as Vincent ravaged my mouth with his tongue, taking his fill of my exotic, fruity bouquet. When he lifted his head, volo carnalis was written all over his face.
"You make me insana cupido. Mad with desire." His lips fell onto mine again, and he carefully set his wine glass on the table, then he took mine and did the same. My heart pounded furiously until both glasses were safe, although hotel room tables tended not to be safe around us.
The kissing continued as he walked me to the bed, positioning himself over my body so his chin rested between my breasts. As I brought my hand up to touch his face, we both noticed the ring at the same time.
"If the ring is too over-the-top, we can find you another one," he said.
"It's the over-the-top aspect that makes it perfect, and I'm sure you had a reason for buying this one in particular. What was it?"
"The pear-shaped diamond is unique, like you, and the halo setting is a metaphor for how I feel about you. You're an angel born into this beautiful form to save me."
His poetic recitations could undo me at the worst of times, and this was no exception. My body reacted with a shudder, and Vincent claimed my mouth again. Like his sex drive, Vincent's capacity for love appeared to have no limit, and I couldn't help thinking, as I succumbed to his mad seduction, that my heart felt the same.