Chapter 14: Le Bouquet

“Good night, Lola,” Glen hailed as Lola Keener approached.

Glen Sullivan opened the front entrance of the Walgreens Drugstore just before Lola came within a couple of steps from him.

“Goodnight,” Lola returned before walking through the open doorway.

Glen Sullivan was the night manager of the Walgreens Drugstore where Lola Keener worked as a clerk. It was 10:27 Wednesday night. Glen was closing the store and Lola was the last clerk to leave. He locked the door behind her and went to the back office to complete some paperwork before leaving himself. The end of day clerical work usually took Glen no more than fifteen minutes to complete. That was just about the length of time it took Lola Keener to walk home.

Lola Keener’s home was a single story two-bedroom house that was five blocks from where she worked. She regularly worked the evening shift, but not by choice. Her period of employment at the store was less than three years. Most of the other clerks had more seniority. During the previous eight years, Lola was a housewife married to Darren Kimmel, a Boston based used car dealership owner 25 years her senior. The marriage ended in divorce. The absence of children and Lola’s infidelity streamlined the dissolution proceedings, so she moved from Boston to Dorchester, Massachusetts.

Lola Keener was now 54 years old, single and unattached. She had been living alone ever since her divorce from Darren Kimmel, more by choice than circumstance. Despite her age, Lola was still an attractive woman with striking features. She continued to get looks from men, but their intentions no longer involved anything more than onetime sexual encounters. Her marriage to Darren diminished her tolerance for unattractive men who were grateful for her attention. She now lived with a faint hope of finding an agreeable man who was financially self-sufficient and had long term intentions.

In her twenties, Lola was what some would call a party girl. She was born and raised in New Jersey State. She relocated to New York City at the age of 19 and spent more than two decades there living a life filled with parties, drugs and sex. She soon learned that attaching herself to the right man was the easy way of financing her lifestyle. It was not until she discovered that she could no longer command the adoration of the right man that she consented to marry Darren Kimmel and move to Boston.

Lola’s house was small and partially shrouded by trees. There was a lamp post in the yard that illuminated the front of the house at night. When she arrived at the doorstep of her home, all seemed as it should be. Lola unlocked the front door, entered the house and turned on the overhead light just as she had done a hundred times before. Everything was familiar and routine; she had no reason to feel ill at ease. She promptly went into the kitchen, turned on the light and placed a carton of orange juice in the refrigerator. She left the kitchen, walked down a short hall and turned into her bedroom. Just as she stepped through the doorway Lola reached for the light switch as she had done a thousand times before. In that same instant a pair of hands came out from the shadow behind the door and grasped Lola about her face and waist. With one quick yank, she was snatched off the floor and pulled flush against the body that the hands and the arms were attached to.

Lola’s effort to turn on the light failed. The suddenness of the assault was too quick and terrifying. During the instant that she was grabbed and restrained, Lola did not have time to think. She only had time to react, but the speed and strength of her attacker was far beyond her ability to resist. She knew it was a man restraining her. She could not scream because of the hand he had clamped over her mouth. A moment after the initial assault began, Lola thought with horror that she was about to die.

“Relax, Lola,” the voice behind her whispered into her ear. “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Lola was quickly calmed by the declaration of her attacker that she would not be harmed. His words gave her reason to believe that she would not be harmed right away. Her instinct was to relax, negotiate and play for time, and she commenced with that strategy by going still.

“That’s it, babe,” the voice from behind spoke soothingly. “You’re okay. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth and you’re not going to scream. Okay?”

Lola nodded her agreement not to scream, and the hand dropped away from her mouth a couple of seconds later.

“What do want?” Lola asked in a panicked voice.

“It’s me, babe,” the voice behind her whispered into her ear. “Tony.”

“Tony?” Lola queried with a startled inflection.

“Yeah, babe,” Tony softly confirmed. “It’s me.”

Lola instantly matched the voice with the name. In that moment, her fear turned to anger. She immediately began to struggle in his grasp.

“Let go of me,” Lola demanded as she continued to struggle.

“Okay, okay,” Tony assented as he released her.

As soon as Tony released his grip, Lola jumped away and turned to look at him. The darkness of the room and the shadow he was standing in made his features difficult to see, but this hindrance did not conceal from Lola the difference in the physique from the Tony she remembered. She gave him a quick down and up look, which reinforced her doubt that the man in front of her was Tony. An instant later, she started for the light switch.

“Don’t,” Tony called out as Lola moved toward the light switch.

Lola stopped just before her hand was about to touch the switch.

“I need to warn…”

Tony’s statement was cut short when Lola flipped on the light. She quickly studied the man in front of her and recognized him as a youthful version of Tony McGuire. She considered the possibility that he was a son of which she had not heard. She was stunned by what she was seeing.

“Yeah, babe, it’s me,” Tony stated with his arms spread out to his sides.

“No,” Lola disputed. “You’re not Tony.”

Lola’s recognition of Tony McGuire was more than twenty years old, but her memory was of a man in his mid-thirties and husky. This man in front of her could not be older than his mid-twenties. She stepped back to consider the person she was looking at, shaking her head in disbelief.

“No, there’s no way you’re Tony McGuire,” Lola insisted.

“Yes, it’s me,” Tony softly insisted as he took a step forward. “It’s a brand new me—younger—stronger—faster,” he finished with a giddy expression. “Remember the Millennium Hotel in July?”

Tony paused to give Lola time to recall the memory.

“How about the Tropicana in Atlantic City—Mary—Chad?” Tony questioned with another step forward.

Lola was amazed by the questions this man was asking her. She recalled her time with Tony at the locations he was speaking of, but she was confused by the fact that he was aware of these events.

“It can’t be you,” Lola disputed with a confused shake of her head.

“It’s me, babe,” Tony whispered with a smile while reaching into his jacket pocket. “I brought you a gift,” he added while producing a small bottle of Le Bouquet Perfume and extending it toward her.

Lola was shocked by the sight of the small bottle of perfume. For several seconds she could do nothing but stare at the young man in front of her.

“How can this be possible?” Lola whispered with an intonation of amazement. “Tony McGuire is sixty—one, sixty-two years old,” she fumbled out. “You look like you’re in your mid-twenties.”

“I’m sixty-two years old,” Tony stated calmly. “I’ll be sixty-three this October third.”

Lola knew that he was correct about Tony McGuire’s age and birthday. The fact that he knew Tony’s birthday had her confused even more. She could do nothing but stare at the man standing in front of her with a bottle of expensive perfume resting in his extended hand. After several seconds, Tony gently stepped past her and placed the bottle on her vanity. Lola observed his movements as he went by. She turned with his movement to keep him in the center of her vision. He straightened and turned to face her square on, Lola took a breath and did not move. Tony was just out of arms reach.

“Lolita,” Tony nearly whispered. “It’s me.”

Lola nearly gasped when she heard the young man in front of her use the pet-name that Tony had given her.

“I’ve been reborn,” Tony continued.

“How?” Lola asked in shock.

“I met a man who had the power to remake me—to turn back the clock—to transform me,” Tony explained in a soft voice. “He made me better, stronger.”

“But—but how?” Lola asked with dismay.

“He fed me his blood,” Tony answered while holding perfectly still.

“His blood?” Lola blurted. “What do you mean that he fed you his blood?”

Tony hesitated to reply, showing his amusement with a gentle smile.

“He made me immortal,” Tony returned with a hint of glee.

“Immortal?” Lola questioned with a disbelieving shake of her head. “What are you talking about?” She added, now completely dumbfounded.

“I’m telling you that I’m a changed man,” Tony explained with a fixed stare. “I don’t even think I can call myself human anymore—I’m superhuman.”

“You’re crazy,” Lola insisted, taking a half step back. “Nothing that you’re saying is possible. I want you out of my house.”

“It’s true,” Tony countered in a calm voice. “It’s all true, and I can prove it,” he appended with soft finality.

Lola paused to consider Tony’s offer to prove what he was saying. Finally, she took a deep and asked. “How?” Obviously lamenting the question.

Tony made no effort to respond to Lola’s question. He held his position and did nothing. Frustrated with his silence, she was about to give voice to her discomfort when something unnerving caught her attention. Light began to reflect off Tony’s eyes. Suddenly, Lola was fixated on the sight of Tony’s photoreceptive retinas.

“What’s happening to you?” She asked after staring for several seconds.

Tony partially opened his mouth and bared his newly formed fangs in response to Lola’s inquiry. While keeping his teeth bared for Lola’s perusal, a soft hiss escaped his lips. Lola was officially terrified. She took a full step back with an expression of wide-eyed fear.

“What are you?” Lola asked between deep breaths.

“I’m Tony,” he answered with his arms spread slightly out from his sides.

“And why are you here?” Lola queried over her labored breathing.

Tony took two steps forward. Lola stood still a foot away from the wall behind her. Tony was now half arm’s length away from her. For several seconds admired Lola’s face. He smiled while examining her features. Shortly he raised his right hand to caress her cheek. Lola made a nervous jump when he reached out toward her but remained in place. When his hand dropped away from her face, she noticed his long fingernails.

“I’m here for you,” Tony whispered.

Lola was confused. She did not understand what he meant; she was trying to formulate a question when Tony reached out with both hands and took her by the shoulders. In one continuous movement, he pulled her up against his chest and wrapped his arms around her back. He squeezed her tight against him, grabbed a handful of her hair with his left hand, pulled her head back and to side, and sank his fangs into her jugular. Lola barely had time to let out a partial scream before the pain of the bite overpowered all her impulses. Lola’s attempt to resist the assault was barely noticeable against Tony’s power. Moments later, Lola no longer had the strength to resist. Three minutes into the assault, her consciousness slipped away, and she slumped into his arms; and another minute more brought her heart to a complete stop. When Tony pulled his head away from Lola’s neck, he growled in satisfaction with his feast, then he lifted Lola’s limp body into his arms, carried her to the bed and gently laid her atop it. Seconds later, he was dripping his own blood into her mouth.

When Tony was convinced that Lola was on her way to becoming a vampire, he turned his attention to transporting her to New York City. He was not expecting any danger. It was well past eleven at night, and he had no reason to believe anyone would be expecting to hear from Lola at this hour. He was confident that he had free reign over the house until the next morning at the earliest, but he was in a hurry to move, not wanting to waste the darkness. His exit plan started with rolling Lola in the bedspread so that she was not visible, then he left the house.

The little house that Lola lived in did not have a garage or driveway. The numerous cars parked on the street forced Tony to leave his car parked half a block down from her house. He wanted to move Lola into his car under the cover of darkness, but he did not want to wait two hours to be sure the neighbors were asleep. Tony was determined to get back to his stash house as quickly as possible. To achieve maximum speed, his plan was to travel as far as he could between this moment and sunrise. To avoid drawing attention to himself, Tony brought his car to the front of the house and left it idling in the street with the hood of the trunk open. He then hurried back into the house, gathered Lola up onto his shoulder and carried her to his car as quickly and inconspicuously as he could. Within thirty seconds, he deposited her in the trunk, got into the driver’s seat of the car and drove off. Tony had been driving for several minutes when his cellphone began vibrating. He pulled his cellphone out of his inside suit coat pocket and noted who was calling before answering.

“What’s happening?” Tony queried into his cellphone.

“It's out,” Mickey Never’s anxiously exclaimed. “News of your purchase is on the streets.”

“Everybody?” A surprised Tony asked.

“Everybody who's watching what's moving on the street,” Mickey insisted with a hint of hysterics.

“What the fuck!” Tony grumbled in dismay. “Did Castellano take out an ad?” He sarcastically added.

“He didn't have to,” Mickey countered. “He told somebody, and they told somebody and then it spread like wildfire. I told you this buy wasn't going to be a secret for long,” he finished vehemently.

Tony was annoyed by the agitation in Mickey’s voice.

“Do the cops know?” Tony growled.

“I haven't heard anything,” Mickey answered with the panic. “But they will, and you can expect to meet a few of them with their hands out.”

“I can deal with that,” Tony quickly insisted. “It's the cops who don't have their hands out that I'm concerned about.”

“They're not a problem yet,” Mickey assured. “But Grasso is,” he warned.

“Grasso?” Tony questioned with surprise.

“He told me to give you a message,” Mickey cautiously advised, “no new powder in Manhattan.”

Tony took a moment to consider Grasso’s warning before responding pensively.

“Grasso said that?”

“Tommie Grasso is not someone to fuck with,” Mickey warned. “And it's not just Manhattan. Pick any borough, there's going to be somebody in them who's not going to like you moving into their territory. The best that you can hope for is that they’re just going to want a piece of your action.”

Tony momentarily considered Mickey’s warning about Grasso. It did not take him long to decide how to proceed.

“You know Grasso?” Tony asked.

“I've seen him a couple of times, but I never met him,” Mickey returned with barely a thought. “A couple of his associates gave me that message to pass on to you.”

“Well, I need you to get back to him,” Tony promptly returned. “Set up a meet,” he added.

“Grasso is not going to be satisfied with a piece of the action that’s going on in his own backyard,” Mickey quickly lectured.

“Tell him my stuff is for sell,” Tony responded as though he was still pondering the thought. “Tell him I’m willing to sell for twenty percent off the purchase price. That should get his attention.”

“You’ll lose money on a deal like that,” Mickey returned with shock. “Tommie is no dummy.”

“Tell him that I came into a large sum of money—marked money,” Tony puzzled out. “And my deal with Castellano was just my way of moving the cash out of the country.”

“Is that true?” Mickey asked with surprise.

“You just tell him what I said,” Tony replied with a modest amount of insistence.

“Tony, he’s going to want to know about the money,” Mickey argued in a worried voice.

“Tell him it was a kidnapping—the family played ball—it was kept out of the news, and the feds were involved,” Tony summed up on the fly.

Mickey paused to consider what Tony had just said.

“And the feds used sequential bills, and the cartel doesn’t care about things like that because they smuggle the money out of the country,” Mickey mused as he began to understand the situation.

“Precisely,” Tony confirmed.

Mickey was suspicious of Tony’s story and worried about his degree of exposure and risk if it was a lie.

“Mr. McGuire,” Mickey earnestly spoke. “You don’t want to double cross Tommie Grasso.”

“Do it,” Tony sharply countered. “Set the meet for Saturday night—someplace secluded,” he finished.

Mickey sighed reluctantly.

“Okay.”

Tony disconnected the call and then turned all his attention back to driving the car.