Vingede: The Friar Tobe Fairy Tale Files Book 2

Chapter 1

Most don't have to overcome the illusion-shattering morning reality of ratty pajamas and bedhead until after they've gotten the chance to semi-impress the girl with an attempt at fancy moves the night before, Tobias thought to enter what he'd expected would be his per-the-norm unoccupied kitchen. Or at least until after several inspired dates had her ready to overlook a host of less-than-charming flaws and contemplate becoming the not-quite-so-super-after-all Super-man's fiancée, he decided.

Oh, please, said the gorgeous blonde he'd not yet taken on even one creative date, as she caught sight of him from her place by the counter. She rolled her eyes at his deer-in-the-headlights posture in the kitchen doorway. Like it wouldn't take a lot worse than geeky, wrinkled sleep plaids and a few unruly spikes to de-hot you. She considered him for a moment before turning back to the coffee pot, and then added: You already crashed and burned months ago with the must-turn-her-off sloppy Granny bun and three days' past their laundry date loose-fit jeans, so is it really inconceivable to you that the alluring abs exposure and fetching pillow-do now would only inspire ideas that should send me to the confession booth?

Tobias tried to strike what he thought was a less sexy pose, while enjoying her vision of the confessional as a place where one made a phone call to God. Mmm, I see, so I'm actually sexually-harassing my secretary, not the other way around, by way of my inherently tempting nature, despite that she has performed a type of passive B & E while I was asleep and therefore unable to take pre-emptive measures to cover up my irresistible charms?

If only, Samantha replied, reaching for the cabinet where she, dismayingly to Tobias's mind, already knew he kept his coffee mugs. "Alas, I can only dream of the day you sexually harass me. And the charms you're most worried about are covered up, even if just barely."

Tobias took a resigned, if somewhat unwillingly amused, seat at his tiny kitchen table, forcing himself not to look down to check whether she was right and wondering how long any guy could fight this kind of blitzkrieg-like seduction at the hands of a beautiful woman.

But, her natural genius being what it is, her flirtation isn't up to snuff, he mused in an attempt to distract himself a little as he rested his chin on his folded hands to watch her in a fascination he'd given up on praying would go away. She wasn't precisely phoning it in, so to speak; still, her heart wasn't fully in it. This, even more than her uninvited presence in the non-office section of his house at 7 a.m., made him suspect something was up.

Anyway, can't a good executive assistant make her boss morning coffee? she continued with this Sami-abnormal half-hearted bantering.

Yes, she frequently brews up a delectable and much appreciated pot o' joe for her employer. At the coffee pot in the office downstairs, he reminded her.

Any secretary can do that, she said, placing a black Flyers mug before him and returning to the refrigerator for cream. But, once again, Tobias caught that somehow off note in her tone.

So, what? he asked. You've got your eye on some Executive Assistant of the Year award?

Samantha sat down at the table across from him with her own mug of coffee. Oh, I think I could come up with something better than before office hours coffee for that, don't you?

Tobias felt a familiar perspiration break out on his forehead. Since her words put in his head an unwanted, though most definitely not unpleasant, image of her dressed in attire not different enough from what he was presently wearing, he was sure she could come up with something better. He also thought it was unfair that she would always win at this game - even when her head wasn't all the way in it, apparently.

All right, Samantha, let's hear it. What exactly did you do? He didn't know for a fact that she'd done anything but, however un-sporting, he was sure putting her on the defensive would detour this flirt train into safer territory. I know this non-hostile takeover of my kitchen can't be about admiring my pajamas, and I suspect nor is it a wily way to show me you're practicing to be a good little wi-… girlfriend…

Crap, he thought when her eyes flashed with the smile her coffee-sipping lips couldn't execute. Serious Freudian slip and internal berating for it aside, however, he still saw a little trace of discomfort in those sparkling blue beauties.

Okay, sore loser, she murmured, putting down her mug and making Tobias think that this girl he pretended he wouldn't even consider dating for another six months might as well be his wife already, so accurately did she sense his every thought to almost the exact wording. "But before I confess to anything, you tell me: don't you think a really good assistant would make it her number one priority to be sure her boss felt, you know, fulfilled by his job?"

I admit to having a little bit of an addiction, he answered after a too obviously reflective pause, yet still, as it turned out, not a reflective enough one. But your appeasing it before I even get dressed in the morning isn't going to make my workday any more fulfilling. Tobias restrained the urge to drop his head into his hands in defeat, or even rip out his own tongue after it had uttered this statement his brain plainly hadn't fully rehearsed the finer points of.

Boy, you're really not all the way up when you first stir in the a.m., are you? she asked with a laugh, then laughed again to hear what she'd said.

The English language has become a minefield I don't have the skills to navigate, Tobias decided, deciding also to remain silent so as not to set off another blast. One type or another was inevitable soon though, he thought a bit glumly. Strive for virtue, he might; reached sainthood, he hadn't, and Samantha… Well, how many guys could withstand the detonating power of beautiful, smart, funny, unusually insightful and attentive? He could only imagine the damage she'd wreak with another five or ten years of wisdom and experience under her belt.

Okay, Samantha sighed. "I think the look in your eyes now guarantees mad won't be the explosion I have to worry about."

Tobias maintained his neutral expression with only the greatest of efforts, yet again not sure whether he was more impressed or more terrified over how good she was at reading his mind.

Here's the thing, Tobias, she continued, for the umpteenth time borrowing with apparently eternal relish a phrase he'd employed while working as a private investigator on her own case a few months back. A case during which he'd fallen more than a little in like with her. Concerned about the ten year difference in their ages, amongst other things, he had as yet to admit to himself what the word for more than like was or to act on his feelings - unless one counted the brilliant strategy of hiring your greatest temptation as your secretary, so you'd see her nearly every day, as acting on them. Samantha counted it as such, of course, although she never pressed him to admit anything. She simply let him know she knew what he'd done by giving him a daily dose of not altogether painful torture.

It just seems to me that, after the life-altering nature of the Sleeping Beauty case, your last few missing persons cases haven't really been giving you that 'my life has great meaning and purpose' feeling. Am I wrong?

"You mean other than the meaning and purpose in the Sami-altering of my life every day of the week outcome of the case?" he asked.

Well, that goes without saying, Tobias, she replied with a little Romanesque hand gesturing. But a man needs to have interests outside of his sex life. Or outside of his unrealized-by-his-own-choice sexual fantasies, I guess would be more accurate. She made a face that appeared to convey her contemplation of whether this last tidbit should have gone without saying as well, but then gave a little nod which indicated that, no, it had definitely needed saying.

I'm going to be the one needing the confession booth soon, if I don't derail this train, he thought, so maybe I should work up a little mad. You took a case for me, didn't you? he asked, but somehow mad still didn't materialize to realize this was true as he said the words.

No, I would never do that, she huffed, sounding so offended that he believed she actually might be. But… She twirled a strand of glossy amber hair around her finger with apparent nervousness, and Tobias scrubbed a hand over a stubbly upper lip to hide his amused smile. I did, maybe, imply that this guy's problem sounded like something you'd be perfect for.

Right. And what guy would that be?

The guy who came to the office on Friday afternoon while you were at the post office, she said with the good grace to sound at least a little guilty.

Uh-huh. And his problem?

Okay, well, listen, she began, her guilt obviously overridden by her excitement to give him the skinny, and dissipated in her relief she wasn't going to be chastised, this is really interesting. He thinks his son, or his foster son actually, might have witnessed a crime.

What kind of crime? And why go to a PI instead of the police? Tobias asked with a bit of unease he couldn't quite explain. After all, private investigators were at least occasionally consulted for suspected crimes the police had no interest in handling. Samantha's case, just a few months ago, had been one of those, in fact.

Well, that's the tricky part, she said with some hesitance.

He frowned a little. Tricky how?

The son has an illness that makes it hard to understand what he's saying.

He has a speech impediment? Tobias questioned, already certain that's not what she meant at all.

Samantha slid a negative noise out between clicked teeth. Not exactly, she hedged.

What exactly, then?

The dad doesn't know. I mean, the boy is his foster son and he was already sick when he brought him home. The doctors who saw him at child services think either a form of autism or maybe… She got up to take her coffee cup to the sink. …childhood schizophrenia, she concluded quietly.

Tobias caught himself looking around for a pack a cigarettes before Samantha turned back towards him from the sink.

And you told this man I could find out if his possibly autistic or schizophrenic child had witnessed a crime because I made a connection between a few words and unusual names in Brynne's coma dream? he asked calmly. He didn't feel particularly calm, but he didn't much want to think about why. It seemed to have a lot less to do with his concern over working with a seriously ill child than it did with the note he'd received at the conclusion of his case with Samantha and her friends. 'The Sleeping Beauty' case as Samantha had so charmingly called it. He'd actually been able to ease up on obsessing over what the note might mean after his third rather dull missing persons case.

So you're saying there are a lot of private eyes out there who have degrees in both psychology and linguistics? she asked, not bothering to mask her impatience with him.

Tobias grunted a little. No, maybe not. But I'm not a licensed psychologist or a professional linguist.

Samantha sat back down at the table, clicking her fingernails on it one by one in slow motion. Yeah, well, you're not a priest or a brother either, but you seem pretty good at getting people to come to you for confession. She glanced toward the dining room sliding glass door behind his right shoulder. Not to mention how strong a hold you keep on that vow of chastity, she mumbled under her breath.

Tobias coughed, trying to evict what felt like the third or fourth amphibian squatter to have taken up residence in his throat that morning.

So, when am I meeting with the guy? he asked, certain she'd already set up an appointment.

Samantha sighed, no doubt thinking the inquiry only his way of avoiding a discussion of her little addendum.

This morning. She glanced at the oven clock. In about an hour.

He nodded, getting up to put his own coffee cup on the drain board. Too bad, he said as he paused for a minute in the archway between kitchen and dining room. If I didn't have to shower and dress for a business meeting, maybe you could've hung out for a while. I was feeling weirdly chatty this morning.

He smiled when he passed through the doorway and a fast food pack of ketchup that had been left on his table hit him in the back.

A tiny and temporary victory maybe, but his first, so it was quite sweet.

Chapter 2

When Tobias arrived downstairs in his converted rec-room-to-office about a half-hour later, Samantha had straightened up the room and gotten her second pot of coffee of the morning going. She frowned at him in a show of residual annoyance as she went to her own desk a couple feet from his and flopped into the chair.

I should probably warn you, even though you don't deserve it, she announced grumpily, that if you agreed to meet with this guy just to get away from me and you're planning to show him to the door with a polite dismissal after an obligatory hearing him out session, you're in for a big surprise.

Really? Tobias responded with an I'm only faking enthusiasm indifference he knew would piss her off further. I do love surprises. But not even a little hint to prepare me?

You're not going to be able to turn him down, she said with obvious glee, after giving him a look that would crush the soul of a less confident man.

Huh. That works out well then. He rifled through some papers on his desk as if not in the slightest baited by her jealousy hook or even aware that she was trying to reel him in on one.

Why's that? she questioned, after a moment's quite apparent silent rehearsal of how to deliver the line with only marginal curiosity.

I need the paycheck.

You're having money problems? she asked, her I'm going to smack you soon look turning to an expression of genuine concern.

Not yet. But probably after tonight.

Samantha shook her head in confusion. How come after tonight? she asked.

I thought maybe we should go out to dinner, he said, tapping some unruly folders into a neat pile and opening the desk drawer beside him to file them away.

She remained silent for an extremely lengthy minute. You mean, like a business dinner and work talk? she said at last.

No, I was thinking more like a casual dinner and a movie.

Samantha hesitated for another long moment. As friends?

Well, we'll still be that, right? he asked with much more nonchalance than he actually felt.

Are you asking me out on a date, Tobias? She seemed to want to make certain there was no chance at all that she was misinterpreting his words before deciding which emotion would be the appropriate one.

Yeah. Unless this irresistible client no one could turn down has replaced me in your affections.

Ignoring this, considering how often she'd shown where her affections lie, she studied him for a minute. You're sure? I mean, you're not just asking now because you really are jealous I so much as mentioned another man?

Yes and no.

Samantha glared at him.

Yes, I'm sure, and no, I didn't ask you out only because I'm jealous. I'm not. Although I guess maybe I would be… a little… if I thought you really were interested in another guy, he clarified.

Just a little? she asked. And why today then?

Maybe more than just a little. He glanced over his shoulder at the clock. And can we talk about the other over dinner? Our prospective new client is due in… There was the sound of a light rap on the door. Now, Tobias said and stood up.

Samantha bounced from her seat and went towards the door. A girlfriend can still be a good executive assistant, she told him, barely concealing her effervescence as she reached to open the door, and Tobias couldn't help but smile.

A tall, slim man of indeterminate age with dark auburn hair and the fine, almost precisely chiseled, features of someone with Eastern Mediterranean or Middle Eastern heritage stood on Tobias's stoop. His male model good looks, combined with the foreign cut of his expensive clothes, made him look oddly out of place standing on the doorstep of this modest and very Chester County, Pennsylvania farmhouse-style split level - almost as if he'd accidentally teleported to the door from another country.

Or from another world, Tobias thought with