Erika (4 page)

“Drive my Porsche, my silver bathtub, my personal collector’s item? I’ve been its only driver. It won’t accept a lady’s hands on its steering wheel.” He didn’t want her to drive. Still he found himself standing on the paved driveway holding open the car door for her.

“Buckle up, snail driver. Tonight we crash through the sound barrier.”

There was mockery in Shanna’s voice. It worried Hawk. She took dangerous chances during her playful moods.

With a roar and a jerk the car came alive. Rubber was deposited on pavement as Hawk’s body rammed into the car seat.

“Hey, not quite so rough,” he gasped. “Let’s not mangle our bodies. We need them for better things.”

Shanna laughed. To Hawk her laughter was a symphonic accompaniment to the racing gear changing purr of the Porsche’s superb engine. In the dim lights of the dashboard her lovely face was a mask of excitement and daring, of living life to the teeth.

“Don’t worry, Hawk. I know what I’m doing.”

Shanna did. Racetrack training enabled her to run through the gears as if the Porsche was an extension of her sleek body. The car’s headlights revealed a road as straight as a moving snake and she drove it as if it were an eight lane freeway.

“Shanna, slow down.”

“Relax, Hawk. I know this road like the palm of my hand. I could drive it with my eyes closed. Want me to show you?”

“No thanks!” He took two deep breaths. “All right, I’ll try to calm down. But don’t forget, there’s a cliff on my side.”

“If we crash the rock barriers will stop us from going over.”

Her statement was zero comfort to Hawk. He trembled and closed his eyes. Shanna laughed. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Several miles back on the road with my stomach.”

He kept his eyes closed. God, if only Shanna would slow down.

You’re coming closer to me, my love. I’m at Inessa Mansion, waiting to possess you forever.

Erika! Hawk jumped, as if struck by a life searing lightning bolt. His eyes shot open.

“Hawk, what is it?”

“It’s nothing, Shanna. I thought I heard your voice. I was mistaken.” He closed his eyes and thought.
Erika. My God! You’re at Inessa Mansion? I should have known that all along. Talk to me again.

Of course, my darling, Hawk. I’m waiting for you. When we’re together we’ll talk and make love forever.

I can hardly wait. Where are you in the mansion?

I’m wherever you want me to be. I’m everywhere. You’ll find me.

Shanna stopped the Porsche to a tire screeching halt in front of Inessa Mansion. “I just had a thought.” She opened the car door. “It’s late, ten thirty to be exact. I wonder if anybody is still awake.”

Hawk opened his door. “We’ll wake them up.”

The front area of the mansion was all ablaze with lights. It was constructed of sturdy red bricks covered with many colored ivy.

Reaching the main door Hawk was a second away from pressing the doorbell when the door banged open with a thunderous crash. Standing before them was a man who looked as if he’d stepped from the pages of A Christmas Carol. He was a skinny Scrooge with sharp piercing eyes and a shock of white hair poking from under a long night cap. He wore an ill fitting nightshirt which hung loose and ended about a foot above bare feet. On his face were skinny rimmed glasses about to fall from an ample nose. A ramrod straight back and a blustering voice declared he was the traditional British butler. However, the weapon he pointed at Shanna and Hawk was made in America.

Chapter Nine

Fear crawled Hawk’s spine. He stared at death. It was a shotgun, a two barreled volcano capable of spitting fire and lead. It could splatter Shanna and him over the landscape if they were close enough to the weapon. They were.

The old man’s voice was hard, brittle, bathed with command. “So you’ve returned, have you? That was most foolhardy of you. Stand where you are, sir. And you also, madam.”

The shotgun wavered toward Shanna. Hawk tensed. He moved his arm an inch or so. The shotgun pivoted back to him.

“Another move will be your last, sir.”

Hawk froze. Fear belched a brassy taste in his mouth. His left eyebrow stung. Ten thousand active mosquitoes stabbed their way across his body. He needed to scratch.

“I’m an expert with weapons. Had to be, you know. I fought the bloody Germans at Dunkirk and Tobruk and all through the war. After that I was with Her Majesty’s Secret Service. I have a most efficient weapon pointing at you. Bagged a lot of game birds with it back home in England, not too many years ago at that, which means I still have a keen aim.”

Hawk swallowed. “It’s a twelve gauge,” he said, wondering how his fear allowed him to say anything.

“I see you are familiar with weapons, sir. It is indeed, a twelve gauge shotgun with outside hammers and loaded with double O buckshot in the shells. At this range, from me to you, its blast could tear your head off. That is a most dastardly way to die, you know.”

Shanna spoke. To Hawk her voice sounded strained, scared like him. “Please don’t shoot. “The man next to me is Hawkins O’Brien. His father is Terrence Hawkins Archibald O’Brien.”

The shotgun wavered some, not enough to matter. Hawk knew they could still be dead in the blink of an eye.

“Is that true, sir? You are who she says you are?”

Hawk nodded.

“Then I must have proof as to your identity.”

Hawk forced a smile in an attempt to mask his fear. “With your permission I’ll reach for my wallet. But I would sure like to scratch first.”

The man nodded.

Hawk scratched. He slowly reached for his wallet knowing any fast movement might be his last.

A driver’s license, a college student body card, an autographed snapshot of Shanna made the shotgun lower toward the floor. Everybody sighed with relief.

“I’m Connors, your head butler, sir. I’m dreadfully sorry for all the terrible inconvenience I have subjected you to. As for you, young madam, how dare I point a weapon at you? I shall never forgive myself.”

“That’s all right,” said Shanna. “We understand how you have to be cautious this time of night.”

Hawk didn’t understand. “Why did you greet us with the shotgun, Connors?”

“Some hoodlums have attempted to pilfer the mansion. Do forgive me, sir, one of the infamous blighters resembles you, which is why I greeted you with my weapon. Now, since there is no longer any reason to remain out here in the open, please come in.”

The three stepped into the mansion’s hallway. Hawk saw the same antique furniture and tall grandfather’s clock. They’d been there through all his childhood. He smiled and felt a deep sense of coming home.

Connors placed his shotgun on a tabletop. He looked chagrined. Hawk saw this.

“I understand, Connors. I’m certain had I been under the same circumstances I would probably have armed myself. You said mansion robbers? Did you phone the police?”

“I did so every time those infamous buggers made their appearance, sir.”

“Every time?” questioned Shanna.

“Yes, young madam. They have been back three times. If ever I have them in my sights I shall dispatch them with the utmost pleasure.”

“How many were there?” Hawk asked.

“I counted four, sir.”

“One resembles Hawk?” Shanna asked, though she already knew the answer.

“Yes, young madam. I believe him to be the head man, so to speak. I overheard his commands to the others. Came very close to bagging him that time I did.”

Hawk turned to Shanna. “I wonder who my look alike could be. Quite a few people might resemble me. I’m not a standout in a crowd.”

She shook her head. “You’ve got me there, Hawk.”

“Excuse me, sir. I trust it’s been some time since your evening repast. Might I serve you some tea and crumpets? If you desire anything else the mansion’s larder has been replenished.”

Hawk nodded. Shanna replied. “Thank you. Tea and crumpets would be delightful at this late hour.”

Connors bowed. “Please follow me into the tapestry room, where you shall have more opportunity for comfort.”

They walked past the grandfather’s clock to two doors. Hawk saw the familiar brass doorknobs. Sweat bathed him. The tapestry room was his mother’s favorite place to be. It had been sealed for seven years. Now it was open. Was it changed?
Oh God, let it be the same. Please.

Connors grasped the doorknobs in each hand and shoved inward. As the door’s swung open they were greeted by a semi-lighted interior. The hanging tapestries made Shanna gasp. Hawk glanced quickly at all of them. Everything was as he remembered.

Connors spoke. “Do get comfortable. I shan’t be a moment.”

He disappeared out the doors. Shanna embraced Hawk as they both laughed.

“Don’t you just love him, Hawk?”

“Well actually no. But I do like him. The guy is right out of a British butler movie. His shotgun scared me free of several years’ growth.”

“Well I wasn’t Miss Cool myself. But in spite of his gruff voice and Christmas Carol Scrooge appearance, I don’t think he really wanted to shoot us. Now tell me what you remember about this room.”

Hawk looked at the walls. “For years I watched mother weave the tapestries. When she couldn’t create exactly what she desired experts did so following her instructions. It was a happy time for me. Mother and father loved each other and father and I were close.”

Shanna kissed him. He hugged her in return. “I’m okay. In fact being in my mother’s mansion just might iron out the wrinkles in my mind. Now, get ready for a real treat.”

One tapestry more than all the others captured them. It depicted a hunting event. The King and Queen were seated on their thrones watching the fair princes and princesses prepare for the hunt. There was an air of great dignity and joy saturating the entire scene. It was weaving magic created by Hawk’s mother. When he smiled at Shanna she became Erika, dressed in the clothes of the hunt. Her hair was long, curly and blonde.

Their kiss was fierce sensual pleasure. Hawk’s body heat roared to life. His maleness surged to where it threatened to rip free from his jockey shorts. Lord, the pleasure of it became so great he ejaculated. He reached for Erika’s clothing. He had to have her and now. He kissed her ear and whispered, “I love you Erika. I love you.”

“That’s very sweet, Hawk. But my name is Shanna.”

Hawk jumped. He looked at the girl in his arms. Shanna! He wanted to scream. He wanted to show horror on his face. Instead, he gazed at the tapestry. Erika’s life force was woven into it. There would be more meetings. Next time his love for her would be a consummation of everlasting fiery passion.

“Are you all right Hawk?” Shanna asked as she adjusted her clothing.

“Sure, I’m fine.”

“You called me Erika.”

Hawk hugged her. “Don’t worry. I first dreamed of Erika here. Seeing all this recalled some old memories. That’s all.”

Shanna sighed. “A kiss like you kissed me a few minutes ago might reassure me.”

Hawk’s lips were arctic cold.

A cleared throat stopped everything. Connors held a tray of food. A short, plump woman stood next to him. She frowned in his direction and whispered. “Connors, we interrupted them. They were so beautiful.”

Connors looked chagrined. “You’re quite right, my dear Matilda. I shall never forgive myself,” he whispered.

The whispering was catching. Shanna was next. “Hawk, do you think they are ever going to speak to us? Or are they just going to stand there and whisper?”

Now came Hawk’s turn. “You mean like we’re doing?” he whispered. “No, I think they’re about to speak to us. I see them glancing in our direction.”

“Introduce me, Connors,” whispered Matilda.

Connors gave forth with another cleared throat before he spoke. “Do forgive us for being so clumsy as to interrupt your privacy.”

“You did, Connors, not me,” chimed Matilda.

“Ahem. Yes, my dear, I did. Master Hawk, Mistress Shanna, it is with great pleasure that I introduce you to the person who has kept the fire of love burning in my veins, my wife of many years, Matilda.”

Matilda curtsied. Shanna returned the politeness.

“I’m right pleased to meet you, Mistress Shanna and Master Hawk,” Matilda said in a high pitched, pleasant voice.

“I took the liberty of bringing you some chicken sandwiches along with the tea and crumpets,” Connors said. He put the tea tray on a nearby Chippendale table.

“Excellent, Connors,” Hawk replied. He smiled and noted that Connors was now neatly attired in a severe black suit. His wife was wearing a black dress. Both were prim and proper, wearing white gloves as they busied themselves arranging the food and pouring tea. This done, Shanna took over.

“Matilda, you and Connors look quite tired and hungry. Join us. There is more food than Hawk and I can eat. We’ll need more utensils and tea cups. Matilda, would you please show me where I can find them?”

Shanna rushed a blustering, befuddled, Matilda through the doors while Hawk motioned for Connors to have a seat. He sat with some reservation.