"RETURN WITH VENGEANCE"
CHAPTER 2
The waiter served the man and the woman, each a chilled glass of martini - with an onion, Gibson style. Then he asked for their orders.
Cole waited as Olivia ordered a grilled chicken sandwich with a salad. He ordered a Quiche Lorraine with ham, mushrooms and spinach. After the waiter disappeared with their orders, Cole took a sip of his martini. "Is it just me, or did Darryl seemed a bit . . . tense?"
Olivia sighed. "He was tense, wasn't he? We just had a meeting with our captain about the Tower Bay Company."
"Oh. That figures." Cole took another sip of his drink. "Poor Darryl. Another 'freaky case' to deal with. You know, I think the FBI could have used him for their X-Files division. If they actually have one."
"Please!" Olivia groaned. "Please don't bring that up the next time you see Darryl. I made a joke about that during a meeting with him and Captain McPherson. Let's just say that neither of them appreciated the joke."
Cole asked, "Did you tell Darryl about the warlock that got away?" The expression on Olivia's face answered his question. "Oh. Hence Inspector Morris' lack of humor, this afternoon."
"I have more bad news about the Crozats," Olivia continued. While Cole finished the last of his martini, Olivia revealed information she had received from her fellow cop and witch from Seattle. MALEHEX, the Crozats' firm, had recently shut down its Seattle office. "Which can only mean one thing."
A grim Cole finished, "There are more Crozats to worry about. And they might be here in San Francisco."
"They were planning to move their operation to this city," Olivia reminded Cole. "And I wouldn't be surprised if they come after us."
A heavy sigh left Cole's mouth. He did not fear any retaliation by the Crozats. But he realized that he could not always be around to help the McNeills or the Halliwells, in case of an attack. Especially Olivia or Phoebe. "Damn!" he hissed. "It always seems as if trouble is never far behind. Don't you have any good news to tell me?"
Olivia's wide mouth stretched into a beautiful smile. "Well, I do have some good news. My old friend, Cecile Dubois, will be arriving within a day or two. I think she's due here, tomorrow."
"Now, that sounds nice." He paused uneasily. "Does she know about . . .?"
A red brow shot upward. "About you?" Olivia's smile broadened. "Well, not everything, but enough. She knows you're a very powerful half-daemon, who also happens to be a friend of mine. Don't worry. Cecile is pretty open-minded. After all, she knew that Richard was a warlock. They even became good friends."
Cole's stomach formed a knot. It always did whenever Olivia mentioned her late fiancé, Richard Bannen. "Well," he began in an effort to sound casual, "that's good to know." Olivia gave him a hard stare. "What?"
"Do you realize that you look rather tense at this moment? Is there something wrong?"
A tight smile formed on Cole's lips. "It's nothing. I . . . uh, my stomach is feeling a bit odd. Lack of food." He cleared his throat. "Tell me more about this Cecile."
According to Olivia, she first met her best friend during a family trip to New Orleans, some twenty years ago. While visiting an antiquity shop that belonged to the Dubois family, both Olivia's mother and grandmother discovered that some of them were Vodoun priests and priestesses . . . and Hoodoo practitioners with very strong powers. "Cecile happens to be both a telepath and a seer. Not one of those phony psychics from the infomercials, but the real McCoy. Like Phoebe. And her abilities are very strong."
The waiter arrived with their food. Once he left, Cole asked, "What is she like? Personality wise?"
"In some ways, she reminds me of Prue Halliwell," Olivia replied.
Cole nearly winced at the mention of his late, former sister-in-law. "And you believe that Cecile and I will get along?"
Olivia smirked. "Good grief, Cole! Cecile and Prue were similar, not alike. Besides, Cecile can be a lot more . . . well, open-minded. Nor did she have any of Prue's hang-ups. Just her own."
"Ah! I didn't realize you felt that Prue had hang-ups."
"Good grief! Who doesn't?" When Cole's gaze remained fixed on her face, Olivia continued, "Look, I'm not saying that Prue was an awful person. Or that I'm perfect. Believe me, I can be just as difficult. It's just Prue and I . . . well, our personalities didn't exactly mesh together. But I have to admit, I personally thought she really needed therapy. Badly. She always seemed so tense and unhappy a lot."
Memories of an enraged Prue Halliwell nearly beating that Seeker to death, flashed through Cole's mind. Along with her determination to defeat Death. Yep. Olivia had described Prue perfectly. Poor woman. Cole took a bite of his quiche.
Olivia continued, "Actually, Cecile reminds me more of Mom than Prue. All three of them can be very reserved and bossy. But at least Cecile and Mom aren't so judgmental. And tense. Although Cecile used to be."
"That's good to know," Cole answered. "Once I use the old Turner charm, I'll have Cecile eating out of my hand. Like your mother." He gave Olivia a roguish smile.
The redhead regarded Cole with a sardonic eye. "The old Turner charm?" She shook her head in disbelief and sighed. “Oh dear.” Using her fork, she speared a piece of his quiche and popped it into his mouth. "Here. Why don't you just finish your lunch . . . and work on that sense of humor, while you're at it."
A smirk spread across Cole's face as he chewed.
* * * *
From another table, at the other side of the restaurant, a pair of dark eyes watched the red-haired woman and the dark-haired man with disbelief. Phoebe Halliwell detected her growing jealousy at the sight and ruthlessly tried to squelch the feeling within her. She failed miserably.
"Phoebe?" Her lunch companion's voice interrupted her silent musings. "Hey Phoebe! Aren't you going to order?"
The word came out of Phoebe's mouth like a squeak. "Huh?"
"The waiter. He's waiting for you to order." Phoebe's companion, a fellow co-worker at the newspaper named Gunther Weiss, stared at her with concerned eyes. "Hey, are you okay?"
Phoebe gave Gunther a wan smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. I . . ." Mindful of the waiter standing patiently beside her, Phoebe finally ordered. "I'll have the Greek salad with red wine vinegar."
"Will that be all, ma'am?" the waiter asked.
Ma'am? Phoebe tried not to wince at the term. It made her feel old and she was only three years shy of thirty. She replied tersely, "Other than a glass of your house wine, that will be all." The waiter nodded and quickly walked away.
Gunther continued to stare at Phoebe. "Are you sure that you're all right? I realize that it's been less than a month since your friend Miles' . . ."
"I'm fine!" Phoebe insisted. Realizing that she seemed curt, she quietly admitted, "I . . . it's my ex-husband." She sighed. "He's here. Inside this restaurant."
Curiosity lit up Gunther's eyes. "Really? Where?" He glanced around the dining room. Phoebe squirmed with discomfort, when he finally spotted Cole and Olivia McNeill in a booth, on the other side of the dining area. "Oh yeah, I see him. Who's the redhead?"
Irritation mingled with jealousy within Phoebe. She glared at her companion. "That's Olivia. She's . . . she's an acquaintance. She went to school with my oldest sister, Prue."
"Gee, I wonder how your ex-husband and your sister's old schoolmate ended up together." Phoebe's glare became more pointed and Gunther quickly apologized. "Sorry, I didn't mean to imply . . . well, what are they? Friends or . . .?
Phoebe coldly shot back, "Friends! And quite frankly, I couldn't care less. I stopped caring about Cole some months ago." She took a sip of water, as she tried to calm herself. Another sigh left her mouth. She did not need this. Not now. Not after her powers had went haywire due to her emotional turmoil over Cole. And certainly not after Miles' death and the Charmed Ones' close call with the Crozat warlocks.
"Hey Phoebe?" Gunther's voice drifted back into her consciousness. "Maybe we should go somewhere else for lunch."
"No!" The moment the word came out of her mouth, Phoebe realized that she sounded harsh. She should really learn to keep her emotions in check. Aware of Gunther's curious gaze, she continued softly, "I mean, no. It's not necessary. I don't plan to run every time I encounter my ex-husband. He's not worth the effort. Okay?" She gave Gunther what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
Not long after Phoebe had spoken, two figures engrossed in deep conversation approached her table. Cole and Olivia. Phoebe's heartbeat increased as the pair grew closer. She struggled to maintain control of her breathing.
"Speak of the devil," Gunther whispered.
Cole and Olivia finally reached the other couple's table. Olivia's green eyes alighted upon Phoebe and Gunther. "Phoebe!" the redhead politely greeted. "We didn't realize you were here."
Phoebe's mouth quirked into a small smile. "Olivia. Cole. Are you two on a date?"
In an equally cool voice, Cole replied, "No, just lunch between two friends." He glanced at Gunther. His eyes narrowed. "Don't I know you? From Phoebe's office?"
"Yeah. Gunther Weiss," the journalist replied with a nod. "Staff writer." His eyes swept appreciatively over Olivia. "And you are?"
Olivia responded with a cool smile. "Olivia McNeill. Cop. San Francisco Police."
"Hey, a cop! What do you know?" Gunther declared. "Must be very exciting!"
"Very."
Phoebe nearly cringed at Gunther's overenthusiastic flirting. And Olivia's cool response. Embarrassment became envy when she saw irritation flared in Cole's eyes. Strange, he seemed more bothered by Gunther's flirtation attempt toward Olivia, than her having lunch with the reporter.
"We better get going, Olivia. I have a meeting, this afternoon. Nice seeing you, Phoebe." Cole shot one dark look at her companion. "Gunther."
Her cool smile still intact, Olivia added, "See you around, Phoebe." Her eyes swept over the reporter with amusement. "And it was nice meeting you . . . Gunther."
"Same here," Phoebe's companion practically gushed. Olivia cocked a sardonic brow. Cole merely rolled his eyes. Phoebe found herself wishing she could crawl into the nearest hole and die from embarrassment.
* * * *
Piper Halliwell glanced around the dining table with an air of satisfaction. It was a rare moment when her entire family managed to gather for a meal together. Tonight happened to be one of those rare moments.
"Paige honey," she asked her youngest sister, "could you pass the bowl of salad to me?" Paige reached for the salad bowl and handed it to Piper. She also handed over a bottle of French dressing.
With a smile on his face, Leo bit into his piece of fried chicken. "Boy, am I hungry! I haven't had a bite to eat, all day," he declared before swallowing his food. "The Elders held a meeting for all whitelighters, today. I barely had time for a snack, let alone a meal."
"The meeting must have been very important," Paige commented.
Leo nodded. "Yeah, it was." He took another bite of chicken.
Both Piper and Paige exchanged exasperated glances, before the former burst out, "Well, aren't you going to tell us? One would think it was important enough for us witches to know about."
"Piper, you know that I can't talk about my meetings, unless the Elders deemed it necessary." Leo paused, under his wife's withering stare. "Well, okay. I can tell you that we're having trouble with a few whitelighters. They've been a little derelict of duty, that's all."
Paige demanded, "Can't you give us more details than that? Why wasn't I summoned to the meeting? I'm half-whitelighter, after all. And I've already guided a whitelighter-to-be and my own dad."
Leo sighed. "Paige. You know the rules. Besides, I've have some other news for you." The sisters stared at him, as he continued, "I've heard from Olivia McNeill. She thinks we should expect more trouble from the Crozat coven. Apparently, someone has closed the Seattle office of the MALEHEX Corporation. She believes it might be the remaining Crozat warlocks."
"That's good to know," Piper murmured sardonically. She did not know what disturbed her more - hearing from Olivia McNeill, whom she found hard to like, or the fact that there might be more Crozat warlocks to deal with.
Surprising Piper and the others, Phoebe burst out, "I saw Olivia, today."
Piper responded, "Oh? Where did you see her?"
Phoebe answered, "At Morgan's. Gunther took me there for lunch, today." She paused. "She was having lunch with Cole."
A pall seemed to have crept into the Halliwell dining room. "That's nice," Piper said with very little enthusiasm.
However, a snort emitted from Paige's mouth. "I bet Cole wasn't happy to see you with Gunther."
"He didn't seemed to mind," Phoebe coolly replied.
A quick glance told Piper that her husband seemed disturbed by Phoebe's news. And as for Phoebe . . . Piper's eyes narrowed. Was she imagining things or did Phoebe really mind seeing Cole and Olivia together?
"Cole and Olivia." Paige shook her head. "Now, why am I not surprised?"
Phoebe glared at the youngest Halliwell. "What do you mean by that?"
"C'mon Phoebe! You remember how chummy they were during that mess about the Crozat warlocks. And just last week, Dave and I saw them at the movies. Like I said, very chummy."
Leo seemed disturbed by Paige's words. "Wait a minute! Are you saying that Olivia and Cole are dating?" he demanded.
Paige shrugged. "I don't know."
"Cole claims they're just good friends," Phoebe added tartly.
Silence filled the dining room. Then a solemn Piper asked, "Do you believe him?"
Phoebe sighed. "I don't know. But I certainly don't like what's going on." Piper looked away. "It's not what you think. I'm not jealous or anything like that."
"Honey, then why are you upset?"
Phoebe speared a piece of tomato with her fork. "I'm not upset, Piper. Just concerned. For Olivia. Remember what I had said before? That she could get hurt getting involved with Cole? I still believe that. And I think that someone should warn her about Cole." She stared at Leo.
Who nodded, wearing a concerned expression. "I guess you're right. It's just that . . . well, the last time I tried to talk to Olivia, she wouldn't listen."
Piper gave her husband a reassuring pat on the arm. "Leo, you have to make her listen. You're her whitelighter, after all."
Then Leo murmured, "That's never stopped you from not listening to me."
"What?" Piper gave the whitelighter a pointed stare.
"Nothing."
Phoebe added, "Look Leo, whether Olivia wants to listen or not, you have to talk to her. Tell her everything you know about Cole, if you have to."
"That is if you haven't, by now," Piper added under her breath, as she recalled Olivia's already extensive knowledge of the Halliwell family.
Leo frowned at his wife. "What did you say, honey?"
"Nothing," Piper replied, repeating his earlier response. She then returned her attention to the salad and filled her plate.
* * * *
Rudolf Crozat escorted the visitor to his Uncle Edward's private office. The latter whistled with deep appreciation at the lush room inside the two-story villa, located in Palo Alto. "Not bad," the visitor declared. "Must have cost you a pretty penny. How much did you pay for this?"
"We're renting it." Edward rose from his seat behind the desk to greet the visitor. "We hope to purchase it, if the owner is willing to sell." He shook the other man's hand. "Edward Crozat. How do you do?"
The visitor replied, "Ben Mallard."
Uncle Edward smiled. "Ben Mallard, of the United States Customs Office." He added smoothly, "You seemed to have forgotten that little tidbit."
Mallard shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. "Yeah. Uh, is there a reason why you summoned me?"
"Yes, there is. Have a seat."
The Customs agent sat down on a plush sofa, located to the left of Edward's desk. The warlock returned to his seat. And Rudolf headed toward the rosewood liquor cabinet. Edward asked Mallard if he would like a drink. The latter ordered a glass of Kentucky bourbon - straight. Rudolf already knew that Edward preferred Napoleon brandy during this time of the evening. After serving the drinks, the young warlock returned to his position near the door.
Mallard took a sip of bourbon. "So, what can I do for you, Mr. Crozat?"
"I'll get to the point, Mr. Mallard. I require your services, as a Customs agent." Edward paused. "I'm . . . expecting a package from Singapore. On the S.S. Enigma."
Nodding, Mallard finished, "And you want to guarantee that it will pass a customs inspection. Am I right?"
"I want you to make sure that a Customs agent never inspects the package. It contains . . . well, an item one could call dangerous." Edward whirled the brandy in the large snifter, before taking a sip.
Mallard's eyes widened. "Dangerous? Uh, you're not one of those . . . I mean, you're not expecting something that the government should be wary . . .?"
Shaking his head, Edward gave the Customs agent a reassuring smile. "No, it's nothing like that, Mr. Mallard. We're not part of some terrorist group or anything like that. I assure you. We're merely expecting a shipment of . . ." Edward shrugged his shoulders. ". . . drugs." His dark eyes pinned the other man's. "Do you have any trouble with that?"
"Oh no!" Mallard immediately replied. He almost seemed relieved. "I thought that . . . never mind." Avarice crept into his eyes. "Uh, exactly how much are you willing to offer for my services?"
Uncle Edward's dark eyes lit up with appreciation. Then he glanced at Rudolf, who immediately removed an envelope from his jacket and handed it to Mallard. "Thirty-three thousand dollars, Mr. Mallard. One-third of the full price for your services. The other two-thirds will be paid upon delivery of the package. Will you prefer cash, or shall I have the sum transferred to your . . .?"
"Cash," Mallard immediately shot back, eyeing the package. He then stuffed it into his jacket, swallowed the last of his bourbon and stood up. "Well, it was nice doing business with you." He started toward the door. "And don't worry, Mr. Crozat, your package will be here as soon as it arrives. I have a contact at the docks." He shot the other two men a smarmy smile and quickly left the room.
Rudolf turned to his uncle. "Why did you hire Mallard? Any one of us could have snatched the package."
"In broad daylight?" Edward shot back. "Without attracting any attention? Besides, that damn ship is already two days late and I have no idea on when it will arrive. In fact, I don't know what this package looks like. This way, I'll have someone official to intercept the package - without one of us hanging around the docks."
Rudolf asked, "And what about Mallard? Shall I kill him once we receive this package?"
Shaking his head, Edward replied, "It won't be necessary. At least, not now. Mallard might prove to be . . ." He examined the brandy and whirled it about once more, ". . . useful. I understand that Mallard had been very useful for the Bannen coven."
"Useful huh? Like the package?"
A sinister smile slid across Edward's face. "The package will prove to be more than useful, my dear Rudolf. Useful to us . . . and dangerous to others." He sighed and finished the last of his brandy.
END OF CHAPTER 2
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