Remnants VII: A Scheme Brews

Chapter VII: A Scheme Brews

When Claire and Danica finally arrived home, dinner was ready. After a delightful meal in which Claire was non-stop talking, the family sat in the living room watching reruns of old crime shows and enjoying hot cups of coffee—or warm milk, in Claire’s case. She sat in the big arm chair with her oversize mug, watching the fire crackle merrily in the fireplace.

"While you guys were off adventuring, your mother and I had one of our own," Victor said, reclining in his chair and stretching.

"Oh really?” Danica asked.

"We got a call from Ashlee. You know, that talkative social worker?"

Claire looked up, staring at her Uncle Victor curiously. She knew an Ashlee! The very nice lady who had saved her from her father. Claire smiled, thinking about how kind Ashlee had been. Danica on the other hand frowned, already jumping to the worst possible case scenario.

"What did she want?" She asked hastily, knuckles turning white as she clutched her coffee mug tighter.

"Well, there was bad news, more bad news, and news that may or may not be bad. Which would you like first?" Victor asked nonchalantly, sipping the coffee. Elaine glared at her husband, Danica gripping her mug even tighter. Claire stared at her Uncle, her smile faltering.

"It's nothing really bad, your father is over exaggerating, as usual," The older woman replied sharply, rubbing her temples. "The bad news was that the adoption process would be longer than we thought, because our files at the Police Station were damaged beyond recognition," she stated. Danica let out a little sigh.

"And the second bit of bad news?"

"The Judge currently has a lot of cases to oversee, and since the mayor and his wife are out of town, we can't get our date moved forward. It may take two more weeks before we can officially call Claire our adoptive daughter."

"I can still stay here though, right?" Claire asked slowly, drawing out each word carefully, as if saying it wrong might make her suddenly happy life disappear.

"Of course! We wouldn't have had it any other way and Ashlee agreed with us."

Danica let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding in. Relaxing and leaning back into the sofa, she closed her eyes and asked about the 'news that may or may not be bad', as her father had stated.

"Ashlee asked to see us again," Elaine said.

"She also said that it was a matter of 'utmost importance' and she even told us to meet her at The Petite Café. In the business world, that’s where very important issues are discussed over dainty sandwiches and tea," Victor stated, having known the reputation of the Café from his own line of business. Silence fell after his statement, thick enough to cut with a knife.

“Did she say why?” Danica said, breaking the silence.

“Just that it was important,” Victor said with a shrug. “Something about medical records as well. I assume she just wants to go over the finer details with us in person.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Elaine said.

“That’s it for your grand adventure?” Danica asked.

“That’s only the beginning,” Victor continued. “After lunch we called the school, asking them what we needed for registration. Sure has changed since you were there.”

“Once we knew exactly what we needed, we called Ashlee and she was able to help us get the documents we needed to enroll you. Congratulations, Claire dear! You start on Monday,” Elaine finished with a smile.

"We picked up the stuff I thought she needed," Danica stated.

“I got a pretty purple backpack and matching pencil case and lunch box and fun pencils and lotsa pencil crayons,” Claire said.

“All on sale too,” Danica added.

“You seem to have accomplished a lot today," Victor started, opening up one eye. "Though it doesn’t really show. You didn't come in with anything."

"That’s because I forgot to unload the van. Thanks for reminding me, Dad!"

Danica put her mug on the coffee table, heading to the front hall. She grabbed her keys off of the key rack, the door opening and closing twice—Claire was close behind her cousin.

“Do you think they’ll need help?” Elaine said.

“She didn’t ask,” Victor said.

The couple sat down, listening to the TV. Five minutes turned into ten, and finally Victor got up and went outside to check up on the girls, Elaine following soon after.

“Everything okay out here?” He asked, leaving Elaine on the veranda as he walked to the trunk of the van.

He let out a low whistle. The trunk was covered in boxes and bags, all tightly packed and stacked quite high.

“Oh my,” he said, beginning to grab some of the bags.

“It’s not that bad, Dad,” Danica said.

“It’s quite a bit, sweetheart…”

“It’s just because of the boxes and bags,” Danica said, waving it off. “You know how it is nowadays. Wrap the tiniest thing in several layers of cardboard and plastic and stuff.”

“It’s excursions like this that make my dream of retiring to a nice house in the country smaller and smaller,” Victor grumbled, walking towards the door. Elaine stood on the veranda, laughing and taking some boxes off their hands.

“You’ll get that country house one day, my dear,” she said.

“I sure hope so,” he replied, smiling nonetheless.

On the other side of town, as the McCabe’s sat in Claire’s room unloading and joking about Victor’s postponed retirement dreams, a very angry man walked the dark streets. And he wasn't just angry: no, he was livid.

He was trying to get his hands on the person causing his fury: Melthore Aerovl. The man could feel the hatred broiling up in his stomach at the mere thought of his name. Though perhaps hate was too strong of a word. He couldn’t quite think of a good enough word to fully encompass his dislike of this man he had never met—but that was beside the point.

One week ago, Melthore had dumped the man's lovely sister. His poor little sister had believed that Melthore loved her. She had believed that Melthore was really invested in her, that they would have a family one day, perhaps. Oh, but his dear Anna had been sorely mislead. And Eduardo was furious. His sister had cried in his arms, her red hair dishevelled, pouring out her heart and soul.

Of course, Eduardo knew from the start that her tryst with the man would end, despite his sister's foolishness. Did she seriously think that spending the day with a man who had a reputation like that and sleeping with him meant he'd stay forever? Of course, she hadn’t known of his reputation. And Eduardo would never tell her; she was already heartbroken enough as it was.

It wouldn't have lasted anyways, Eduardo thought as he turned towards the bar on the deserted street. He knew he'd probably find the man here, if anywhere—he had been thorough in his hunt for this man. Anna had shown him pictures of the two of them, so many pictures. It hadn’t been hard to take one and begin asking around. He found himself with answers quite soon, and had figured out the most likely places he would find his sister’s lover.

Melthore drank another cup of the strongest drink the bartender could make. It was called "The Bee's Sting", and it rang true to the name. The taste of the drink stung his throat as he chugged it, pushing the cup towards the bartender. Sighing, he slammed his hand on the bar. How the hell was he supposed to get his life on track and live like he had always dreamt now?

Lifting his head up and rubbing his temples, he wondered how he'd be able to access the fortune. The woman’s words echoed in his head, over and over again. You have officially been unregistered as her legal guardian. Control of her affairs now rest with the SVSS…You cannot under any circumstances access the account…until she is adopted…

He stopped rubbing his temples for a minute, one line repeating itself over and over again.

Or is physically giving her consent to family and is with them in person...

Technically, Melthore thought, he was her biological father. So, despite the events of the past week, he was still a family member, right? Smirking, Melthore gestured to the bartender for another Bee's Sting. All he needed to do was get the girl with him and voila, instant money! Of course, there was one tiny problem.

How on earth would he get the girl, bring her to a bank, and make her say yes?

Downing his drink, he put a twenty on the bar and walked out. I'll sleep on it, he thought. Wrapped up in his own little world, Melthore didn't notice the man follow him out of the bar.

Which is just what Eduardo was hoping for. From his sister's description and the many, many, many pictures she had shown him, this tall, brown haired, relatively well built man was very similar to the infamous Melthore (though he had a bit of a belly). Play it cool, Eduardo thought, as he caught up to Melthore at the bus stop. Inside the shelter to seek refuge from the chill, Eduardo turned and glared at Melthore.

Glancing over, Melthore noticed the cold glare sent his way by the stranger. Narrowing his eyes, he turned to the strange man.

"What're you looking at?"

"Are you Melthore Aerovl?" He asked.

"Who’s asking?” Melthore snapped, closing his jacket tighter around himself.

"My sister Anna told me about you," Eduardo started, looking at Melthore.

“Sounds familiar,” Mel ventured. He frowned, trying to remember this Anna...

“You cannot be serious. You don’t remember her?”

Melthore grimanced, trying to remember her. “Of course I remember her,” he lied.

“Red head? About this tall? You were dating her for over a month,” Eduardo snapped.

“Oh. Right. Anna.” That was her name, the chick he was with when the social worker got the girl. Before he had time to form a better reply, a sharp pain shot up his jaw. Staggering back a few feet, his intoxicated mind took a few moments to register the fact that he had just been punched in the face. The metallic taste of blood let him know that it was hard, too. Wiping his mouth, he turned to the blond stranger.

"What the fuck?"

"You broke her heart!" the man screamed, throwing a punch straight to Melthore's gut. Air rushing out of his lungs, he fell to the ground. This dude is crazy, he thought, placing his palms on the ground and slowly getting up. He staggered backwards, and leaned against the glass wall of the bus shelter attempting to catch his breath.

Melthore needed to think thoroughly. He was being attacked by the angry brother of one of his lovers. Not only was this a first for him, but the brother had the advantage because Melthore knew that he was in fact quite inebriated. He didn’t have time for this nonsense! He had a bus to catch, a fortune to somehow gain access too…

And that’s when the idea came to him.

Coughing a bit, he put on his best "love struck" face.

"I did," he started, "love her, I mean. I did love her. Do."

Eduardo paused for a minute, looking at the pathetic sight in front of him. This man was notorious amongst most of the small population of Swim City. He was garbage. But he looked truly hurt…and Anna loved this man dearly. She refused to let him go, so perhaps, if he talked with this man, he could reassure Anna. He had to have some good in him, maybe a little...right?

Melthore noticed the small pause and slowly realized that he had gotten the man's attention. The lie was easy. All that was left now was to convince the man that the lie was in fact the truth! Letting out a sigh and drawing on a sad memory (it wasn’t hard), Melthore looked up into the blond man's eyes.

"I had a complicated past," he murmured. True enough, he thought, pausing for dramatic effect. "And when I met your sister—” What was her name again? ”—Anna, I was at my worst. She helped me get through a really rough time.”

Melthore noticed the man's face drop, curiosity replacing the confusion. Time for the sob story, he thought, cautiously.

"I have a daughter, you know. Had, rather," he started. "The day Anna was over, my daughter was taken away from me." Sighing, Melthore put his head in his hands, and stared at his shoes. "Not to mention, I have no money. I couldn't support your sister, if we ever decided to get serious." Melthore grimaced at the last sentence. Like he'd ever get serious again, not after Sophia...

"So you broke up with her because you couldn’t support her?" The man asked, taking the seat beside Melthore.

"Yes...and now, I've found out that my daughter's an heiress," Melthore murmured, hoping, just hoping, that the man was gullible enough to pick up on what he was slowly attempting to say.

"And you’re not able to access it?" The man asked.

"No. The only way I could possibly get it was if she went with me to the bank and gave her permission in person," It took Melthore the utmost restraint to not spit the last few words icily and keep up his victimized charade.

"That sounds incredibly stupid."

"It is. Without the money I couldn’t support your sister. But if I were to bring my daughter with me to the bank, I could access the fortune and support her for life," Melthore finished, laying the bait. Now all he needed was for this fish to grab the worm.

"So...if I were to help you gain the trust of your daughter...you'd go back to my sister?"

"To make it more specific," Melthore started, the plan finally forming in his head, "I want you to gain her trust. Then..."

"Yes...then..."

Melthore took a deep breath in. "Then, when you finally gain her trust, you can bring her to me..."

"And?"

"And I can take her with me and get the fortune."

The brown eyed man pondered for a minute. "And if I do what you ask of me...you'll get back with my sister?"

Raising his right hand, Melthore looked at him. "You'll have my word for it."

"Then I will help you. If it helps my sister achieve happiness… I will help you." The man reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a piece of paper. Grabbing a pen out of another pocket, he scrawled something on the piece of paper, and handed it to Melthore.

"But you must promise to go back to Anna. Or at least explain things to her.”

“Yeah, of course.” Mel said, glancing at the paper.

Eduardo Garcia
(647) 555 8763

“Good. Then I suppose I’ll be seeing you, yes?”

Mel nodded, watching Eduardo leave the bus stop.

Melthore's smirk grew. He had the guy hook, line and sinker. The bus arrived and as Melthore stuffed the paper in his pocket and left the shelter, he took his left hand out of his other pocket.

He had his fingers crossed.