Blood Debt

the clothes in the dryer, grabbed a garbage bag from the utility closet in the corner and was on his way back to the kitchen when he heard a quiet tap at the apartment door.
    The woman standing in the hall looked as if she were about to cry.
    "I'm sorry," she declared, waving one hand in the general direction of the open door as she dug in her purse for a tissue with the other. "It's just coming here has brought it all back."
    "Mrs. Munro?" Celluci hazarded.
    Mrs. Munro blew her nose and nodded. "That's right. I'm sorry to be such a watering pot, but it just sort of hit me looking in the door like this, that Miss Evans is really gone."
    Celluci knew he should move out of the way. That there wasn't any good reason now for her not to come in. I've got a vampire asleep in here, so could you come back after sunset just didn't cut it.
    "I've just come by for a few things I forgot to take with me the night Miss Evans passed on." She looked up at him expectantly. "I won't take long, my daughter's waiting in the car."
    There didn't seem to be anything else he could do so he stepped aside.
    "So you're a friend of Mr. Fitzroy's." Sighing deeply, she walked purposefully through the entrance hall, her gaze darting from side to side like she was afraid to let it rest for long on any one object. "Miss Evans thought the world of Mr. Fitzroy. He flirted with her, you know, and that made her feel young. I don't mind letting friends of his stay here. And you're a police detective, aren't you? Just like on television.
    Are you and your lady friend having a nice visit to Vancouver?"
    Wondering exactly what Henry had told her, Celluci said they were and then, as she headed straight for the pink bedroom, lengthened his stride to get ahead of her, hurriedly adding in a voice calculated to disarm middle-aged women, "Uh, Mrs. Munro, we have a bit of a problem."
    She paused, her hand actually cupping the doorknob, and frowned slightly. "A problem, Detective?"
    "My, uh, lady friend is asleep in there."
    "Still?" Her watch had large black numbers on a plain white face.
    "It's almost ten. She isn't sick, is she?"
    "No, she's not sick." And then, because there was nothing like the truth for that ring of sincerity: "She has an eating disorder."
    "Oh, dear."
    "And she had a bad night." He met her gaze and smiled hopefully down at her, an expression that had caused innumerable witnesses to suddenly remember a wealth of detail. "I was hoping she could get a couple more hours' sleep."
    "Well…"
    "If you leave a list, we could have Henry bring anything you need to your daughter's this evening."
    "No, no, there's no need to disturb Mr. Fitzroy. He's already been more than generous, and, well…" Her pupils dilated as she remembered the unexpected visit. "… he asked me not to come by while you're here."
    Celluci's heart started beating again when she let her hand drop and turned from the door. My persuasions were, for the most part, monetary, he heard Henry say. For the most part.
    "I didn't need anything important. I wouldn't have even come by except that we were in the neighborhood and my daughter-in-law can be most persuasive."
    More than you have any idea. If her daughter-in-law had been able to overwhelm one of Fitzroy's requests, even momentarily, formidable would not be too strong a word to use when describing her. There were other words, but Vicki'd pretty much forced him to stop using them. "We're very grateful that you're allowing us the use of your home."
    Her face grew still as she glanced around the living room. "Yes. I suppose it is my home now. Miss Evans left it to me, you know."
    "No, I didn't know."
    "Yes, but I expect I'll sell it." She picked up a small brass sculpture, stared at it as though she'd never seen it before, and slowly put it down again. "This is all too grand for me. I like things a little cozier."
    Cozy was not a word Celluci would've used to describe the pink bedroom. In fact the only word that came to mind was overwhelming.
    He trailed silently behind her as she crossed back to the apartment door.
    "I'm sorry to have bothered you, Detective. If you could ask Mr.
    Fitzroy to call me at my son's when you leave."
    "If we're an inconvenience, Mrs. Munro…"
    "No, not at all." She smiled at him reassuringly, then stopped, forehead creasing in sudden puzzlement. "I'd have thought you'd be using the master bedroom."
    "Actually, I'm using the master bedroom."
    "Oh, of course." Her tone suggested this explained