Sonata (Butcher and Violinist 2)

Or should I refer to her as the Mouse? It would be easier. Then I would never second guess this little woman again.

The Mouse kept the guards’ pace. No one would be playing with her anymore.

When we’d parked the limo, Gwen had gone up in a hurry, mumbling about how we should excuse the mess. She’d probably been rushing to clean the apartment up, before we came inside. I’d told her it didn’t matter. No place could be as awful as Louis’s. Plus, we were her guests and she was doing us a major favor.

It didn’t matter.

She sped away.

At least, she’s helping us.

With all that went on, we’d given Gwen a brief PG-13 summary of what was really going on in the city. I wasn’t sure if she believed us. But she’d met Eden twice, and knew that Eden was in danger. With that, Gwen brought us back to her apartment.

I’ll pay her back double for this help. She knows something is up with what we’re doing. Still, she’s helping and doesn’t look scared. I wonder why she’d doing it so easily.

That was just one of the many questions of the day, that I had no time to ponder. But there were more important ones on my mind.

Eden, you’re with the Lion now. Are you okay? Are things better? What happened to you?

I rode the elevator up to Gwen’s place. She had no strong connection to us. There would be no reason for Kazimir to come there. She was just Rafael’s chef. He’d be searching in other places.

This will be a good place to wait it out, until he gave us the location for the exchange.

Rafael and Louis needed a break. Like me, neither had slept or eaten. While my love for Eden served as my fuel, they would need time to rest.

I’ll give them twenty minutes.

All of us loaded on—Rafael, Louis, the Mouse, her guards, and me.

Rust coated the edges of the walls. The ceiling had a light that flickered when the doors closed. The contraption didn’t move for several seconds. A bell rang. I glanced up and then the elevator creaked as we rose.

Rafael gazed around the dusty box. “This is no way to live life, and how long do you think it took her to get to Shalimar’s every day?”

“She probably spends an hour commuting in and an hour going back out. This isn’t close to the transit.”

Rafael sighed. “What type of car does she drive, Louis?”

“Nothing you would like.”

“This has to change.” Rafael ran his fingers through his hair.

The Mouse watched him with intrigue.

Stop assessing him. I no longer trust you.

She’d killed my men in that limo with ease. I didn’t know how she did it, but they were out cold and dead on the floor. And then she’d had time to write me an apology.

“I can put Gwen in my building,” Louis offered.

“No.” Rafael shook his head. “I’ll take care of it. I’m moving the restaurant location anyway…changing the theme…I’ll move Gwen closer to wherever that is. Either way, she can’t live here. I’ll tell her, when we get inside.”

This was good. Rafael needed something to focus on in these next weeks. Shalimar’s death had knocked him down. While he may have come to grips with the fact that I might rough her up for answers, he knew that I never would have killed her.

But others would and others did. They’d torn her apart.

Disgusting.

It was one thing to mourn your lover killed from a car accident; than to mourn one shattered from torture.

The way Shalimar ended. . .

The guilt would punish him. It would grip at his soul, and tear through him for years to come.

The Mouse watched Rafael some more.

“Stop looking at him,” I whispered.

Saying nothing, she directed her view in front of her.

I turned to Rafael. “Yes. I think changing the location of the restaurant is a good idea. Get anything from me that you need, whether for the restaurant or Gwen.”

Maybe Gwen can be a distraction. Maybe… she can help you heal.

The elevator screeched to the fifth floor. It stopped. We stood there for several seconds. After too long, the doors creaked open.

Happy to get off, I left immediately.

“Jesus Christ,” Rafael grumbled. “Was that elevator even running by electricity or were there two men on the roof lifting it up on a crane.”

Exhausted, we walked down the hallway and stopped at the door she’d told us was her.

5E.

I knocked and eyed Kazimir’s lover. The Mouse had given us no further problem. She looked just as beat up as we were. And she’d vomited earlier and never ate.

I checked out my wrinkled shirt and jacket on her. “We’ve got to get her some food and clothes.”

Louis spoke up, “Should I run out and get it? We’ve already asked enough from Gwen.”

“Let’s check with Gwen. I don’t want you out there right now. No matter what, Gwen won’t have any regrets for her help. She’ll be more than taken care of. If she wants, she can start her own restaurant.”