Full Circle * a tale for Arioso and I *

Eric Griffin Devries, a name given to me by my mother at birth, a woman who was three times unique…she was stoned, had a cynical sense of humor and an honest streak to the point of brutality.

I was 13 when I first realized my view of sex and the creatures that supplied it were different. Different in the way that I knew I could have it anytime and anyway I wanted all I needed to do was take it. With the good looks inherited from my mother, her brown eyes and jet-black hair carrying over and the dark complexion from an unknown father and an athletic near six-foot frame it became easy for me early on…

“Take”…a word I studied carefully, by definition, by meaning and by…action. I simply needed to reach out obliquely and “take” what I wanted and when done with it…gently dispose of it. At 17 it was fun…the rush of power and adrenalin a heady and powerful, addictive mix that I thought could never be beaten, or improved. I had six “sessions” after that under my belt and had grown brave…arrogant…and nearly fatally foolish.

I began to push the boundaries. Where I had been careful I became careless, where I should have been quiet and invisible I became loud and boasting…5 more sessions and I was convinced I was a god, able to do all and anything I needed or wished…and above all mortal laws. Now at the experienced age of 29 I had learned to be cautious, quiet, obscure…and much more deadly and efficient because of it.

Now don’t take me wrong. I was no criminal by the careful letter of the law. I seduced women and gave them what they thought they wanted. Companionship. A shoulder to cry on after a most painful breakup, an ear and words that assured them someone did understand and sympathize…and care. But after each “session” (I called them that to keep myself emotionally distanced) I too grew lonely, and eventually that loneliness began to wear on me, forcing me to spend more and more time in a city I’ll call…”Hometown”.

Hometown. A city that would never be large enough to be called a metropolis and yet too large to be considered a backwoods town. It had everything you might want or need. Restaurants, an honest to god theatre, hospitals, a small river that ran through it and was frequented by lovers in the park on the warm evenings and oh yes…a bank.

The Bank…Where I had over the years stashed away a considerable fortune. Stocks, bonds, titles to expensive vehicles, boats, land and even a race horse that actually won a race now and then.

All legitimate mind you…. All were “gifts” that I never outwardly solicited from my “friends”, but then I never turned them down when offered either. After all a man without a trade had to find someway to support himself, right?

Not that there weren’t a few hurt feelings when I left. Sometimes it had to be done a little less “noble” then I hoped and in the dead of night. But then that too was the cost of business, wasn’t it? You took your losses and ran when you had to, my mom always told me.

But in Hometown, U.S.A. I was safe. Here I could say my real name and not be afraid of being known, I was just another face in just another quiet, obscure town…right?

OOC: Ella MacKenzie, 31, Special Agent for the FBI, graduated top in her class from Quantico 5 years earlier, described by her co-workers as a workaholic.

Father died when she was 17 in the line of duty as a firefighter. He remains the man for whom she holds the greatest respect, and his honesty and work ethic are still what defines her view of the ideal man.

Mother spent a year in treatment for clinical depression after his death, now lives in Scotland, having returned there to settle among friends that she and Ella's father made during a visit to trace the family tree when Ella was still a child.

Ella has dark, curly hair which she considers an unruly mop and thus tends to keep it secured in a short ponytail. Her features have never been striking enough to turn men's heads -- her nose is plain, her cheeks speckled with freckles, and her eyes amber brown. She doesn't have a porn star's body, but she's physically fit.

She has friends enough in the bureau, colleagues with whom she socializes after hours, but few close confidantes. She's learned to be comfortable with her table for one out at restaurants or jazz bars.

During her five years with the bureau, Ella has chosen to remain in her assignment with interstate finance & fraud investigations. Although she's been offered promotions to work in criminal profiling, she recognizes her own limits and knows that she'd burn out way too quickly working on serial murder cases. And yet, strange cases still manage to find their way to her desk...



"You've got to be kidding," Ella drawled as she sat before the Assistant Director's desk and reviewed the case file he'd just handed her. "Why not just set the IRS on him? I'm sure they'd come up with at least a clear case of tax evasion."

A. D. Harding just shook his head and sighed. "You know they've been short staffed because of budget cuts...and half of their personnel are assigned to watch Bill Gates.."

Ella shoot her head impatiently and narrowed her eyes through her wire-rimmed reading glasses, scanning the details. This guy was just a garden variety con man...a gigolo perhaps...why the big deal....ahhhh....there it is....complaint filed by Ms. Shelley Atchison...

Arching an eyebrow, Ella muttered, "So....he did a senator's daughter---WHAT?!" Her voice rose in alarm as she read the supplementary documents at the back of the file. Medical reports, released from Mr. Devries' physician, documenting his disease-free condition. Putting two-and-two together, Ella addressed her superior in a warning tone. "Sir..."

The Assistant Director leaned forward and rested his elbows on his polished, mahogany desk. "It's for that reason that I'm giving you the option of refusing this assignment. We need to catch this guy in the act of committing fraud, which means we have to dangle a little bait. But it has to be real, and depending on the circumstances, that could mean..."

Exasperated, Ella slapped the casefile down on A. D. Harding's desk. "This isn't an investigation, it's a plot for a porn film!"

"Look, Agent MacKenzie...this was discussed seriously by the bureau's senior staff. Yes, you and I both know that if a senator's daughter wasn't involved, this wouldn't even be a case. But it was agreed that you would be the ideal operative."

Ella's lips pressed together tightly as she bit back her retort. Because everyone knows I'm the poor old maid who just can't get a man, don't they?

She hated pity. If she turned down this case, she'd be marked for more of it. Come on, girl...dad always said you have to face your demons.

"When do I leave for this charming town?" she sighed.

At least it wouldn't all be bad. Posing as a wealthy former businesswoman who had opted for early retirement would have its perqs. She'd seen in the case file that the bureau had arranged for a spacious house just on the edges of town...more of a villa, actually...just along the river...

Getting reaquainted with the locals

Having settled back into the tiny but well built home he had purchased on a whim years ago Eric had decided he needed a break and knew just the place to go for it. The place was a roadside tavern owned by a middle aged couple that was anything but ordinary. Not odd, not the kind of couple you shook your head at after meeting, but thier attitude and humour was what you noticed first, and continued to notice if you were in thier good graces.

Eric was. The first time the three met it had been a late and hot summer night and the tavern was deserted. After asking for a cool, tall glass of beer he had received the perplexing news the one and only cooler had failed and the only way he could a "cold one" was to fix the thing himself. And so he did, using the one and only skill he had learned from vo-tech school to diagnose a failed power link and jumping it with a thin strip of foil.

"Show off or lucky?" He had been critically questioned as the ancient cooler hummed back to life by the woman he now knew as Diane.

"Damn Lucky" He had replied honestly as he looked around the cluttered organization of the bar and the endless knick knacks the two had collected in a lifetime of traveling together.

"What made the pair of you decide to settle down here of all places?" He had inquired later as the first cold beer was handed to him "on the house".



"Dang bus broke down and rather then fix it again we decided it was time to stop." Jack had replied honestly and pointed out the ancient and lopsided VW bus behind the building.

Now years later Eric strolled back into the tavern and helped himself to a cold beer from the same cooler, feeling that perhaps the couple had made the right choice and not himself.

" I see the FOR SALE sign is down on the big villa at the end of the road, know who bought it?" He inquired in way of saying hello regardless of the fact he hadn't seen Jack or Diane in nearly two years.

"Rented from what I understand. A lot of furniture and stuff but only one person moving around it now, a single woman..."

Diane had tossed back at him as she hugged him and then dug a finger in his ribs.

"Maybe you should go say hello?"

Eric grinned and squeezed her back, reaching over her 5 foot stature to take Jacks bear like hand and grimace as his own was crushed.

"Always the match maker, huh Jack?" He chuckled good naturely as the three sat down.

"You know Mom, she figures no man is complete unless he's married and housebroken." Jack laughed back and patted his growing stomach. "Staying for supper?"

"Tomorrow night" Eric promised "I've got errands to do later and will eat on the way"

Banking errands...Eric's last session had been hugely profitable and he wanted to place the proceeds safely in the bank before doing anything else...

"Then I'll return and talk you into replacing that old cooler..."

"Leave that one there, please!" Ella hollered at the burly mover as he reached for the precious box at the back of the truck's trailer.

She cringed at how she must sound -- a tad too much the bossy female client -- but that was one box that nobody ever touched but her.

Packed with loving care and sealed tight was her father's old jazz record collection. 100% old-fashioned vinyl LPs in mint condition. Several of them the original releases of his favorite vocalist and the lady for whom he'd named his only daughter, Ella Fitzgerald. Ella had already lugged the record player inside herself. Since there was no telling how long this assignment would last, she figured she could bring at least one of her most prized comforts from home.

The man shrugged and gave her a dubious glance. It was a heavy box, and no doubt he expected her to struggle with it. It gave her no small amount of satisfaction to see his eyes raise when she hefted the box right up on one shoulder and gracefully strode into her rented villa.

Aside from that one piece of cargo, Ella tried to stay out of the movers' way as they settled her in. For about an hour, she went over all the details on Mr. Devries in the surveillance files available in the bureau's database, then logged off and decided to make herself scarce around the house.

She may as well acquaint herself with the town. Retrieving her bicycle from among the clutter out on the front drive, she tuned it up first -- filling the tires with air, adjusting the seat, checking all the gears -- then hopped on and set about learning the territory.

The town wasn't so huge that she couldn't make the rounds of most of the streets and neighborhoods in a couple of hours. And this was her preferred method of surveillance. While many of her fellow agents preferred cars, when it came to familiarizing herself with a relatively small region, Ella felt that she could take in more details without looking too suspicious when she was going at the leisurely pace of a bicycle.

However, it did make for thirsty work.

After she had cased every place that Devries was known to frequent based on his credit card usage -- the dry cleaners where he took his suits, the grocery store where he bought his food, the restaurants he seemed to prefer, the bank where he made periodic, fairly large deposits, as well as his residence -- Ella decided to head back home. First, though, she'd stop for a drink at the little tavern she'd seen just down the road from her place.

As she was locking her bike to a post, Ella paused and grinned admiringly at the decrepit old relic of a VW bus on the tavern's lot. The place definitely seemed to have character.

Character, and then some. The view inside the bar was something to behold, with old license plates, road signs, and other memorabilia decking the walls. Ella's grin widened at the sight of an old sign for Route 66, the legendary road that she'd always promised herself she'd drive at least once before she died.

Settling into the bar, she ordered an India Pale Ale when the grey-haired bartender sauntered over and welcomed her.

"You new in town?" he asked as he pulled her beer from the tap.

"Yes, I'm renting the place just up the road," Ella replied.

"Well, that makes you our neighbor, then. I'm Jack. My wife, Diane, and I run this place," Jack said, extending his hand.

Ella shook it and smiled. "Ella MacKenzie. I love what you've done with this place."

Jack chuckled and slid the beer in front of her. "What, all the junk? I guess you could say it's our life on display."

Sipping her beer, Ella nodded and looked around. When her eyes fell on the old juke box in the corner, her expression lit up like a child's at Christmas.

It played forty-fives.

Slapping a five-dollar bill down on the counter, Ella scooted off her bar stool and went to admire the old contraption. Jack and Diane must have taken good care of it -- its panels were all polished and intact, and it looked like it would still play a tune for a quarter.

So engrossed was she in perusing the play list, her dark curls dangling at the nape of her neck and down over her brow into her face, that she didn't notice another patron enter the tavern.

"Hi Eric," Jack greeted him. "Back again?"

Eric

Eric slid inside the door as was his usual method and stood quietly; admiring the long, lean legs that tapered up and into the khaki shorts, absently wondering what was under the sweatshirt that covered the top of the shorts...

"As promised." He responded cheerily and remained watching the woman near the old jukebox Jack and he had worked so hard at restoring last fall. "Earlier than I expected though, I forgot it's Labor Day and that makes this a bank holiday."

He had driven into town to find the polite smiley face dangling in the glass door and debated calling the unlisted number the vice president had given him when he opened the account...

"Can you stow this under the counter for me Jack?" Eric asked and turned to face his pleasant face

He had negated calling the man though knowing his offer was sincere...Telling myself he would be with family and friends and didn't need to be disturbed, there was tomorrow and Eric should be somewhere as well...

Not family but the closest thing he had ever come to it...

The gym bag changed hands and Jack tossed it under the bar then closed the counter door, nodding in the direction of the woman punching buttons in merry fashion on the juke box, his eyes twinkling in mischief as he did so...

Eric shook his head in the negative, knowing despite any argument he would offer what was about to happen, and though despising it he held no grudge against Jack for doing it.

"That there is Ella Mackenzie, no ring on her finger and renting the Villa smack dab in the middle of us, tall, dark and mysterious just like you told me you always wanted. Now the only right thing I can do as host of this fine establishment is to insist you both join Ma and I for dinner...she told me you'd be back without eating at that grease joint across from the bank."

She was tall...Eric admitted as the woman turned from the box and strode towards them, her eyes telling him she had heard everything and was carefully yet quickly sorting the information.

"Pleased to meet you Miss Mackenzie" Eric smiled and greeted her, offering his hand to her as he sat on a stool next to the glass of beer he assumed was hers. "What brings you to our quiet little haven?"

"I've recently sold my businesses and decided to take a long deserved rest." Came the smooth reply, her eyes steady on his as they shook hands, carefully assessing him.

"This big lugs name is Eric Von Bruin. " Jack tossed out in his match making tone. "And he's good with his hands if you ever need help around the Villa. So don't feel hesitant to call him cause he has nothing to do either except bother Ma and I."

Something flitted across Ella's face and then vanished as quickly, her grasp tightening as Eric's name was mentioned and then going completely limp as she deliberately turned to Jack.

I'm sure he is.... good with his hands

"Jack means I'm a handyman is all Ella." Eric clarified softly and let go of her hand wondering at the tone in her voice. "I restored that juke box as well as over half the ancient appliances in this bar...and I'd be happy to help you if you ever needed me to."

Tavern Eric.... Tavern. How many times have I told you not to call it a bar?
Came Diane's voice from the doorway into their kitchen.
Now both of you young kids come back here with Pa and I, dinners on and I'll be insulted if you don't share it with us. I'll not take any excuses.

Her homely appearance made for a good shield.

Ella had gleaned from Mr. "Von Bruin's" conversation with Jack that Eric Devries -- for he matched the photo in his file to a T -- had been to the bank this afternoon. What business did he have there, she wondered.

When she'd turned from the jukebox to walk back to the bar, she'd seen the expected reaction. Like all other men, Mr. Devries met her gaze with a polite, disinterested expression...his eyes glazing a little as it became clear that there was nothing terribly attractive to look at. Which permitted Ella to take her time in appraising him.

She'd already known that he was handsome from his photograph, not to mention his history of stealing the hearts (and money) of women from nearly every walk of life. In person, however, he possessed an added magnetism -- a rugged, subdued sensuality that lingered in the air around him. No doubt one of the many tools he used to ply his trade.

Stars shining bright above you...Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you"....

Ella Fitzgerald's voice floated out from the jukebox like the scent of gardenia on a summer's night as the first of Ella's selections began to play. And before she knew it, Jack and Diane had invited her to join them for dinner -- obviously matchmaking, since their fondness for Mr. Devries was unmistakable.

The FBI couldn't have planned it better.

So she found herself at a small table back in the kitchen staring down at a savory bowl of rice and jambalaya. Blowing on her first mouthful to cool it before she slipped it past her lips, Ella inhaled the flavors....Diane was apparently quite the cook!

"Mmmm....'is i' gooo," Ella raved honestly...and as best she could with her tongue gingerly rolling the steaming bite around to keep from burning her cheeks.

"Glad you like it," Diane beamed proudly, raising a spoonful toward her own mouth. "It's a recipe I got from an old cajun cafe owner when Jack and I passed through New Orleans. So, dear, what brings you to our little neck of the woods?"

Effortlessly, Ella launched into the cover story worked up for her by the bureau, adding a few of her own touches that would blend well enough with her true past to make it easy to remember and lessen the likelihood of tripping herself up.

"Well, I used to have a small R & D company. We developed fire-resistant fabrics for turnout gear," her voice trembled only slightly...an old, deep wound that had never fully healed.... "But eventually I decided that it was too tough competing with PBI, Dupont, and the other heavy hitters, so I sold the firm and made enough to retire on. I don't really have family in the country, so I was free to settle any place...and this town just seemed to have the right charm."

As she spoke, Ella noticed Mr. Devries watching her, his interest seeming to pique as she mentioned the sale of her firm netting her a large enough sum to allow her to retire at a very young age. With any luck, she'd dangled some appealing bait...but it could be a while before he went for the hook.

Two drifters, off to see the world...there's such a lot of world to see...

The jukebox continued to serenade them throughout the meal, which eventually turned the conversation to music and Ella's prized LP collection. When she mentioned that the sound quality on her old record player had been a little "sketchy" lately, Diane practically pounced.

"Oh, then you should have Eric take a look at it! He and Jack fixed up our jukebox, and to listen to it now you'd think we bought it brand new."

Resting her chin in her left hand, Ella arched an eyebrow and gave Mr. Devries a sidelong glance. "Really? Shall I look you up in the yellow pages under electronics repair, Mr. Von Bruin? What's the name of your business?"

Now...to see what identity he'd created for himself in this little hamlet where he stowed away his illicit bankrolls....

Eric

Paradise. Friends gathered around a tiny table overflowing with food and drink, the sounds of a perfect voice wafting in from the main room...Ella Fitzgerald weaving her magic words inside a timeless harmony...

"It seems you share a passion for the music as well as a name, Miss Mackenzie." Eric noted as the perfectly blended flavors of sausage, tomatoes, onion and peppers rolled over his tongue and warmed his throat and stomach. The rice cooled the fires the creole dish started just enough to spoon another large helping into his own mouth as he listened to her story.

"Diane this is the best ever." He complimented thier hostess and slid back from the table to let the second portion she dished up cool for a period as he formed an answer to Miss Mackenzies question.

"My real name is Eric Griffin Devries. The middle name was given to me by my mother and had great significance to her, so I honor her by mentioning it. Jack and Diane often in good intentions introduce me by a name I used in my past business life. Don't blame them. For some reason they think I need taking care of even though I've done that for myself since I was thirteen quite well. As for what I do? You might say I'm at a crossroads in my life, trying to decide just what is right to do next...and because of that...unemployed?"

Truth... Never lie to someone you truly care for, or might...One of the phrases he had heard over and over when "she" was sober enough to remember to tuck in her son... As if from her sins Eric would bring forgivness and absolution to her by not making them himself.

Blowing on a spoonful of the delicious cajun food he ate, chewing carefully as Diane tried to push more rice onto his plate and Jack grinned at his head shaking and pointing to his already full belly.

"I've got to be going, Mom" Eric explained gently as he stirred the mix and hunted for a pepper that had eluded him. "And I'm sure you want to pump your new neighbor for as many details as possible."

Winking he rose and shook Jack's hand, then kissed Diane on the cheek and thanked her softly before turning to thier still seated guest.

"Let's build a stairway to the stars, And climb that stirway to the stars, With love beside us, to fill the night with a song."

He quoted and held offered his hand, smiling as she seemed confused and unsure before she accepted it, and then giving him a firm grip as she rose.

"It was a pleasure meeting you.If you want help around the Villa I have the time Miss MacKenzie, but you'll have to come over to my house or leave a message with Jack and Diane as I have no phone. Good Night then..."

Field log: Initial contact with Devries confirmed details already on file from surveillance. No phone service at residence; line taps not an option. Ambiguous business with the bank; forthcoming about a few personal details such as name and family connections; evasive about occupation -- self-characterized as unemployed. Selective use of truth for purposes of obfuscation concurrent with his profile and past history of maneuvering himself onto the receiving end of financial and material gifts from women. Have contacted D.C. bureau to request update on Devries' local bank account in two days.

Ella sat at her desk in the airy, lofted-ceiling office on the second floor of the villa the bureau had rented for her, her bare feet perched on the legs of her chair as she finished her field log for the initial meeting with Devries. It had gone about as she'd expected: he'd been polite enough to offer assistance with repairs if she needed them, but otherwise had shown little interest in her, making a swift exit when the opportunity arose and leaving her to Jack and Diane. However, she'd known this would be deep cover when she accepted the assignment; such cases often required months for a mole to be planted deeply enough to begin to see results. And he hadn't been entirely closed off...he seemed comfortable enough mentioning his mother.

Field log, supplemental note: Request background check on Devries' mother.

With her work for the day finished, Ella closed her password-protected file, logged out of her operating system (a different password), and then shut down the computer (again a different boot password). Twisting around in her seat, she looked down on the expanse of manicured lawn and garden that stretched all the way to the river's edge. What that path down to the boating dock needs are some paper lanterns...

Ella made a mental note to order them tomorrow. They would add a nice touch to the dinner to which she'd planned to invite Jack, Diane, and Mr. Devries. Sighing at the thought, she decided to take a walk down to her dock. With arms folded across her chest and a pensive furrow to her brow, she sauntered downstairs and out into the still, soothing yard.

Night was just falling. The edge of the horizon saw a pale violet that faded upward into indigo, then finally a star-bedecked night sky. All very romantic...which simply made Ella brood even more. Dammit, I'm not qualified for this assignment... She didn't know how to flirt. Oh, she could hum an old torch song, and she had a fairly good appreciation for what romance looked like. But she'd have more confidence in her ability to shoot a perpetrator straight through the heart than she would in whatever awkward overtures she could make to woo a man.

She'd just never gotten the hang of it, and Frank Sinatra could take all his songs about women's "witchcraft" and shove them where the sun didn't shine. It wasn't second nature to everyone.

The planks of the short dock creaked a little under her feet as she paced, trying to think of how to initiate her next contact with Mr. Devries without it seeming like a paint-by-the-numbers seduction. Indeed...if she did too much of the seduction, there would be no case against him, and definite grounds for charges of entrapment against the bureau.

Hmm....a table and chairs down here by the water...some lanterns...the grill could go over there....an ice chest for beer...

Dinner was probably just as good a start as any...and she did need to return the favor, after all.

However, an unexpected turn of events the following day altered her plans.

It must have been the move. Perhaps a little too much jostling in the movers' truck during transport. But when Ella went to turn on her old record player for some music during breakfast....nada. She unplugged it and tried several outlets...it wasn't the electricity. Then she checked the wiring in the back...still kaput. Her heart sank.

Without hesitation....and without thinking about whether or not Mr. Devries was up at 8:00 in the morning, she slipped on a forest green tank top and some black cycling shorts, hopped on her bicycle and pedaled into town. Once outside his door, though, her rationality kicked in again. She silently berated herself for losing it over the heirloom and was debating whether she should just return home and come back later when his door opened...

Great...I'm a mess...and I'm disturbing him most likely before his morning coffee with the most pathetic damsel in distress story ever....

Eric

*Griffin get to your room NOW....Hurry son, please just...hurry*

Worried and tired eyes looked at him as her hands gently pushed...It had become an old routine and at the tender age of 13 he already knew what was going to happen. Mom's latest boyfriend was coming up the stairs and he was angry. Something about her using more of the "sugar" then she was supposed to and now the bills had to be paid.

*It'll be ok Griffin, I promise, Ma-Ma will never let anyone hurt you and will be back tomorrow morning, I promise.*

But the first morning had came without her as did the second, and then a third and finally on the fourth the boyfriend had showed and seemed surprised when he stood there and boldly asked for him to take me to his mother.

"Beat it kid, she was late on the rent and had to vamoose. I'm going to clean the place out and rent this dump out before I lose more money on the deal."



His bag was packed. For after a dozen moves in two years he had learned to live out of the canvas sack and be ready to move on a heartbeats notice. But this time was different. Before he always had his mother to move with, even if at times it seemed of late he was the one that shouldered the burden and kept them moving until they had found a new place to live. There wasn't much to salvage from the apartment. Living off of paper plates and no television all that was left was some old nursery rhymes and a weathered bible...

"Here kid it's no use to me, ya better have it"

He took it without looking back and beat it. Not understanding why SHE had broken her promise to him and letting the anger build in him as he walked the streets. It wasn't as tough as he thought it would be. At first he had to skip a few meals...and was kicked out of a few choice corners he tried to sleep in, but Eric was big for his age and learned how to fight quickly and take what he needed even faster...


Eric woke. The sweat pouring off of him and the effects of the continual nightmare leaving him shaken and weak as if he had the same habits my mother once had.

But he didn't.

Eric rose and made the bed quickly, then moved outside to the gym and punching bags he had set at various weights and heights. A few kicks and punches and the chills were gone, the stiffness gone as he loosened up and began to time himself and fall into the trance he tried to put himself into when practicing "the art". Eric didn't need a clock, instinct and practice told him how long he was on the mats and when he needed to quit, and as Eric walked away the effects of the dream were gone...

*But never the memories of it. NEVER ever let a woman get that close again so she can hurt you.*

A quick shower and then to the internet, bypassing several safeguards and firewalls with a self devised stealth program, then quietly into the back door of the financial program he wanted to visit.

"Dammit" Eric gently cursed and then laughed. He had never made the deposit and instead left the money at Jack & Diane's Tavern...tucked under the counter with his gym wear.

Pulling on a dark grey shirt that stood out over the darker jeans he locked down the laptop and pulled the tiny hardrive from it's side...Then headed for the door and Jack & Diane's...

For a few seconds, they stood there, each frozen in place, staring at the other.

Ella's pulse raced as the weight of her impulsive trek to Mr. Devries' abode pressed down even more heavily on her. This could make it even more difficult to get in his good graces... He looked drawn....tired...and wary.

And, to Ella's begrudging surprise....very, very sexy. Just a faint remnant of sweat lingering on his athletic physique and a ruddy glow to his cheeks. He must have been working out.

She'd always had trouble asking for help; she found it doubly hard now, but managed to maintain some semblance of poise as she smiled apologetically and greeted him.

"Good morning. I'm probably not what you expected to find on your doorstep..." she began.

Silence. A dubious, appraising flick of his eyes over her.

He looks like he's headed somewhere...

"...and I'm guessing I've interrupted your morning routine. God, I'm an idiot...I'll come by later....or no, I'm being presumptuous...you know what? I'll call one of the shops in town--"

"What do you need?" his quiet voice interrupted her. He didn't just look tired...he sounded tired.

I need to stop babbling like a klunkhead!

Shaking her head at herself, Ella let out a short laugh and dropped her forehead into her hand for a moment. Then, looking up, she grinned wrily and sighed, "Let me start again. I have an old record player, what you might call an heirloom. I think it's broken. Stupid, huh? I didn't mean to be rude by coming by so early in the morning, but it's just that you and Jack both mentioned how you'd fixed up that jukebox of his. Would you...do you think you might have time to take a look at it later today?"

Why did asking for help always make her feel uncomfortably like she was five years old? Ella folded her arms across her chest in an effort to keep her hands from fidgeting as she waited for Mr. Devries to respond.

Eric

The figure at the door was nothing like the woman I had met the evening before. Her body was radiating energy, her face flushed and bright pink over her tan cheeks, her body language so diminuitive and feeble the night before now strong and alive.

But it was Ella and with a start I knew I wasn't being much of a host.

*Too involved in the past to live the present, hmm Eric?*

The words came to me as they had so many years ago as if out of a fog and slowly clearing my mind I returned to what she was talking about.

"You called it a heirloom Miss Mackenzie? Something that brings you joy and fond memories when you use it? Then it is worth saving and I'd be happy to help you if I can. But on one condition."

*OK, Well done. The words were smooth enough and well delivered. Even honest enough considering we had recently met*

"I was going to make a stop at Jack and Diane's and then a few errands. Seeing as you rode your bike here I could give you a lift and we might share some breakfast? If not I'll swing up to your place in a little more than an hour."

Triggering the remote the garage door rumbled and then opened smoothly and I pointed to the ancient Ford pickup waiting inside.

"It's not new but will take us where we need to go." I promised and waited patiently.

"The condition Mr. Devries? You mentioned a condition for repairing my player?"

The words were just a little too hard and showed the iron in the woman in front of me. No, correct that. The tempered steel. She was used to dealing with hard people and treated them accordingly.

"The condition would be you stop calling me Mister and start called me by my first name. It's Eric if you've forgotten and I let all my friends call me by it. Deal?"

Relief brought a sincere smile to Ella's face, crinkling her freckled cheeks.

"All right, Eric," she agreed, her voice a bit softer as she extended her hand. "It's a deal. And I'd love some breakfast."

His grip was firm and decisive, but not overpowering. Ella hated that -- aggressive jerks who thought they were impressive when they crunched your bones. Eric's hand, however, felt so warm...strong...

Oh hell! She needed to let go...

Reluctantly, she slid her fingers, which had somehow entwined with his, away. Sighing a little guiltily, she said, "I don't really have the kitchen stocked up yet, but I can offer you some orange juice, coffee, and toast."

Eric shook his head and offered her a hearty chuckle as he sauntered easily to his old Ford pickup. "Or, I could pick up some pastries on my way over. Unless you have a problem with letting your neighbors welcome you to town while you're still settling in?"

His last remark was made pointedly as Ella hoisted her bike up to swing it into the bed of the truck just as he reached to help her. In spite of herself, Ella felt herself reacting to the heat of his body as he stood close behind, his arms...not quite...around her shoulders...

They shared a fleeting glance as Ella forced herself to let the weight of the bicycle shift to his hands. Then, she awkwardly tried to slip aside, fiddling nervously with the door handle on the passenger side.

"Speaking of heirlooms, this is a real beauty," Ella remarked, clearing her throat. Her compliment was honest...if all of the work had indeed been done by Eric himself, he'd managed to preserve the Ford in excellent condition. "I've seen a few like this, rusting in junk yards, but this almost looks like it's got the original paint."

She hopped in as Eric walked behind the truck and to the drivers' side. Then, resting her elbow on the window, she settled in for the ride back to her place.

"So, shall I give you the grand tour, or just drive you straight home?" Eric asked.

Cocking her head to the side, Ella debated for a moment and then answered with a grin, "I think I'll take the expert guided tour by the local native."

New beginnings

One tour it is then”

Eric agreed and prompted the truck to life, the engine growling and then settling to a sedate purr as it pulled from the garage and onto the road.

“This player of yours Ella, what brand and how old is it?”

Eric questioned to pass the time as he pointed the truck towards the town below. The truck rode and made its way smoothly despite being 38 years old and Eric grinned, enjoying the ride and the presence beside him.


“You don’t wind it up before playing it do you?” He teased though he knew he was several years older then the woman riding beside him. The taunt got him a chuckle and he looked to his passenger, and then caught himself wondering what he was doing with a woman like this.

Not that she was unpleasant to be around…*She probably doesn’t even know how attractive she is* Eric told himself and wondered how she would react if someone actually told her so. * Her tomboyish attitude doesn’t cover up how much of a woman she is anymore, not like it might have 10 years ago…*

Enough, Eric told himself as they pulled to a stop beside an attractive two story that smelled overwhelmingly like fresh bread and coffee, she’s your neighbor, not someone who wants to get involved with you.

“Karen meet Ella, Ella…Karen” He grinned and ushered his guest to the countertop filled with pastries. “Karen will fill you with sweets, coffee and advice if you let her, don’t pass any of them up because all are priceless.”

Taking his own advice he moved to the poppy seed turnovers and helped himself to several then filled a large mug with coffee. The portly brown haired woman had quickly adopted Ella and was trying to fill a second mug while sliding a plate of pastries to her and ask a dozen questions as well. Eric grinned and then slid between the two offering rescue with a sly wink and a plea to speak t his guest for a few minutes.

“I can show you the entire town, recite population and try to impress you with everything it has to offer but the best way to really know the value of it all is sit here and meet the people as they come through.”

True to his words Eric did his best to introduce Ella and fill her in on the details of which people were what that greeted her.

“Tom Gruebely, he owns the hardware store and has a ten year old daughter that loves to fish”

“Hank Windstrom, He’s Mayor and one of the best horse-shoe players you’ll ever meet”

“Calvin Bellows, He’s the Chief of Police, Deputy and Dog Catcher, though he’d rather find homes for the strays then put them in cages.”

“Alice Templey, The local vet and an artist that should go professional, but she claims joy of a good painting given outweighs pleasure of a profit taken.”


Each took a few moments to welcome Ella and say hello to Eric, the smiles as warm as the handshakes when they left…

“Are you two going to get married the way Eric keeps you to himself?” Karen pouted and then joined then unbidden. “There’s a social coming up in a little over a month and would be a good place to announce it.

Eric sputtered and nearly choked on his coffee before he caught the teasing look in Karen’s eyes and turned to his guest.

“We just met Karen and hardly know each other” He grinned back and turned his eyes to Ella. “Though I’d be pleased to accompany her to the dance?”

During the ride in Eric's old Ford, Ella described the turntable she'd inherited from her father. She wasn't quite sure if it meant anything to him when she identified it as a 1966 Crosley suitcase-style turntable , but figured that he'd be able to determine whether it was something he could fix once he saw it.

Ella also neglected to go into detail about why she considered it an heirloom. when they got to her place, he might notice the framed photograph of her at age 12 with her father, his fireman's hat perched on her young head, which she always hung on a wall near the record player, but it was just too awkward to explain the personal value of that one, archaic piece of electronics.

Besides, he was an assignment, not a confidant.

When they stopped at the bakery and coffeehouse for breakfast, however, Ella was once again reminded of how difficult it was going to be during this assignment to maintain her focus and not let herself get too caught up in personal attachment. The parade of locals reminded her of people she had known in her own home town and their easy interaction was exactly the way of life that she had always dreamed of settling into. A far cry from her existence at the FBI....another world that she'd tuned out in her pursuit of a challenging career...

Eric Griffin Devries was good, too. Either that, or far less a scoundrel than his casefile made him out to be.

Ella observed closely as the townsfolk greeted him with hearty slaps on the back or warm smiles, and listened to the sincerity in his voice as he asked them about their families or projects with the house or their work. If she hadn't read his dossier, she might easily have believed that he'd lived here all his life and had never ventured out into the world to engage in his serial seduction and abandonment of women. Certainly, he cultivated his persona well enough in this community that none of the local citizens would believe that he'd done anything to warrant a federal investigation.

When Karen, the coffeeshop owner, teased him about marriage, however, Ella felt a slight lurch in her own stomach. Thankfully, Eric was busy choking on his own coffee, which gave Ella a moment to compose herself.

I don't know how to dance...and she was just teasing...even the bureau wouldn't expect me to get married for this assignment...this case can't be worth that much to them...it's just a senator calling in a favor with one of the Directors, after all...

By the time Eric expressed interest in accompanying her to the town social, Ella had regained her poise enough to take advantage of yet another perfect opportunity that had practically dropped in her lap.

"I'd like that," Ella agreed, meeting Eric's eyes and offering him a grateful smile. "Although you really are going above-and-beyond the duty of welcoming me to town. Especially since I'm not much of a dancer."

"Oh, don't worry, dear," Karen broke in before Eric had the chance to respond. "There are plenty of other things to do at a social...nice, secluded corners where you can--"

"KAREN!" Eric blurted out in alarm, cutting her off. Ella chuckled and felt her eyes watering a little in delight. To her surprise, Eric seemed to be blushing.

Struggling to maintain a straight face, but unable to prevent a mischievous smirk from tugging at her lips, Ella countered smoothly, "But Karen, if it's a social, why would I spend time in a secluded corner? Wouldn't that be anti-social?"

The matronly brunette laughed and narrowed her eyes at Ella. "Ohhh, a smart aleck, eh?" Shifting her glance toward Eric, she added, "I thought one was enough for this town."

Karen refilled their coffee mugs and sauntered away, while Eric sat shaking his head...and still blushing.

Since she would rather have him talking than embarrassed, Ella remarked, "You, Eric, have a wealth of friends here. I'm guessing you've lived here all your life, or at least most of it. What's it like to be part of such a close-knit community? I'm a little envious?"

She broke off a morsel of her blueberry muffin and popped it in her mouth, waiting for his response.

Eric

Somehow during the conversation Eric formed the impression it had slyly turned against him. He was a natural flirt. Everyone who knew him knew that as well, but just as well known was how much of an introvert he truly was. For him to champion someone and bring them into the public eye was a near miracle occurence and for that person to be a woman?

Unheard of.

And yet as his guests question came to his ears he knew he would answer. Quietly, completely...honestly.

" I found this town on a bus trip from nowhere to noplace Ella. My money had near run out, I was hungry and I was confused. I sat on that corner you can see if you look through the window and hung my head in abject hopelessness. I was ready to give up and needed only the method to do so. Only it didn't happen. The town welcomed me, took me under it's wing and made me feel welcome, then gave me a place to grow, to become....well to live and accept me for what I was when I needed it the most. They all took me into thier hearts and gave me the room to grow, and to make the mistakes a person will as they grow..."

The last of the coffee rolled down Eric's throat and he carefully set the heavy mug down to look at his guest and her eyes that scrutinized him oh so carefully...

"I'm a lucky man Ella, this community gave me all I needed when I needed it the most, and now after all these years it's my turn."

A brave smile came to Eric's face and he reached into his pocket to find a few small bills to cover the tab they had rung up...

"Let's go repair that turntable Ella, I'm sure you've heard enough sob stories in your life that you don't need to hear another....This ones on me as a welcome to the community and to it's lifestyle..."

It was a skill she'd put to use many times in her career as an investigator. Her attention to minute details had helped her detect patterns in financial mismanagement, trends in internet con schemes before anyone else recognized them, and, just as important, subtle shifts in mood when she was interrogating someone.

Something had struck a nerve and made Eric feel more vulnerable than he was comfortable with.

So she set the interrogation aside for the moment. Since she was here for the long haul, it might yield better results for her to sit in Karen's coffeehouse and listen to what the locals had to say about him.

Smiling gratefully and inclining her head slightly, Ella answered, "Thank you, that's very kind. I'll have to treat you sometime."

The ride to her spacious house was brief, but the change in Eric's mood persisted. He provided her with a running commentary about various sites that they passed, yet his demeanor was distant somehow. His eyes remained fixed on the road, his tone of voice...subdued.

This was definitely going to take time. Not surprisingly, given that he'd made a living out of gaining other people's trust and then taking their money, Ella sensed that Eric was very wary about trusting another person -- despite his surface openness.

Perhaps when she had a chance to check the bureau's findings on his mother, it would provide further clues.

When the old Ford rolled to a stop in her driveway, Ella hopped out and ushered Eric into the living room, just off the kitchen, where she kept her treasured turntable. The room was a little spartan -- the bureau had supplied just enough furniture, but nothing lavish. Still, it was Ella's favorite in the house because of the floor-to-ceiling windows that opened onto a stunning view of the river.

Walking him over to her old Crosley, Ella said, "Well, here it is. I'm not terribly handy with repairs. About all I could do was check the outlet to make sure it was working."

"I'll take a look," Eric assured her with an easy smile. He seemed pleased to have a challenge.

Ella left him with the turntable for about fifteen minutes, not wanting to hover over his shoulder while he tried to work. Instead, she went into the kitchen and put away the breakfast dishes that she ended up not using, then retreated to her upstairs office to see whether or not she'd received a reply to her request for background information on Eric's mother. She had...but she'd wait until he left before reading it. Powering down her computer, she returned to the living room.

"How bad is it?" she asked.

Eric had unscrewed a panel and was peering into the depths of the turntable. "Well, luckily you won't need to order any special parts. There's a wire that needs fixing, but I think I can improvise something from the local hardware store."

"That's a relief," Ella grinned.

"Who's that?" Eric nodded toward the framed photo on the wall just above the record player.

Ella's heart clenched just a little in her chest when her eyes flitted to the picture of her with her father. She wasn't in the habit of discussing it with people...indeed, there were still some of her co-workers who didn't know...

But if she was going to gain his trust, she would have to open up to him a little...

"My dad," she replied, her voice very soft, looking at her younger self in the photo and seeing an open, full-hearted cheerfulness that she hadn't felt in a long time. "He was a firefighter."

"Was?" Eric murmured gently. From the tone of his voice, Ella knew he'd already figured it out.

"He died when I was 17. In a fire...it was arson. A downtown warehouse. They said....they said some stairs collapsed beneath him," Ella explained, feeling her whole body stiffen as she worked to keep her voice steady. "Sometimes people are just taken away from you before you're ready..."

Eric

Breakfast at Karen's Shoppe had been pleasant and quite refreshing. To sit with a striking woman who acted as if she was unaware of her beauty, to be able to introduce her to friends and laugh at the easy banter she created. But something rang a bell though, maybe it was the combination of Karen's teasing and Ella's easy reluctance into another social meeting that made Eric mull over his new acquaintance as they left the Shoppe. It wasn’t the tiny confession of his past that troubled Eric, maybe it was the intent way she listened to him and seemed to be memorizing each word. Something was different and difficult to place he knew on the drive to her place and the easy conversation that had existed earlier was now strained.


This time after they arrived she didn't quibble as he unloaded her bike and placed it by the back door before they entered her home. Nor was the almost intimate feeling there he reflected as they moved into the house. The interior was lacking the clutter of furniture and knick knacks but Eric dismissed it as the fact Ella had just moved in and would quickly accumulate the things to give it a more "homey" feel as she lived there. Finally the feeling left him as Ella showed him the record player and left him to concentrate on finding the problem with and determining if it could be repaired.

“A model 50” Eric approved, at the choice of the antique player as well as the excellent shape it was in, and puzzled over Ella’s choice of decoration in the forum of the picture and well used fireman’s helmet. The answer came and he swore to himself he could feel the pain that still existed in her eyes as she spoke, and then cursed himself for doubting her or thinking she was something other than she told him.

That’s your game remember? Or used to be? He chided himself and strove to find words to ease her pain.

“It’s never the right time to lose someone, the hole it makes never seems to close, at least that’s how it feels for me.” He sympathized to her and with a surprise found he meant it. “It dulls but it never seems to quite go away, doesn’t it?”

Ella turned and nodded, the look in her eyes telling Eric she agreed and somehow appreciated the sentiments that he had quietly spoken. She was tense, her entire body rigid and Eric wished there was someway he could take away the pain that lay in her eyes.

“I lost my mother at 13…. never really met my father…and it seemed my entire world was destroyed, but time passed and I made it, but…. sometimes I just wish I could touch her…. smell her perfume and hear her voice just one more time. The worst part of it all was I was never able to say goodbye or tell her how much I cared for her…”

The silence grew between them and Eric turned to hide his embarrassment, moving the parts of the Crosley as if they needed it now the problem was found, then sighed and turned back to Ella.


“You have a well cared for player Ella, I admire someone who takes care of things and still continues to use them despite the fact they aren’t modern, it’s a trait that’s hard to find in this day and age. I want to thank you for the morning and will make sure I stop at the hardware store after I see Jack and Diane.”

Ella nodded and smiled softly, her eyes following Eric and he felt a twinge as he opened the door and stepped outside, wishing he could have said more…done more for Ella or at least stayed with her longer.

*You have enough problems of your own to work out, she doesn't need yours as well* He chided himself and started the truck.

What was happening...?

For a moment, Ella just stood and watched as Eric turned from her and walked away. Something quivered in her chest and prevented her from speaking.

No pity....just heartfelt understanding...so much so that it moved her...

It was one thing to know that her assignment would require a certain amount of emotional involvement. It was an entirely different thing to feel that pang deep inside, that blossoming ache and anxiety as she was forced to realize that Eric had gotten to her, reached some place that she kept safely hidden...both from herself and so many of her coworkers for years.

Feeling every throb of the pulse in her veins as her lungs breathed in and out, Ella swallowed and tried to refocus.

Sweet mercy....

The rumbling roar of the truck engine finally snapped Ella to her senses and she made it to her door in quick strides, emerging just in time to see the tires beginning to roll forward.

"Eric!" she called out, hastening to the driver's side window.

He halted the Ford and his eyes met hers, piercing straight to her depths with a look that could only be described as soulful. She felt drawn to him, and would swear that if she were to lurch at the window, seize his face in her hands and pull him in for a kiss, his lips would match her own hunger and then some.

But now was not the time...too soon...

Instead, Ella drew up beside the door and maintained a polite, neighborly distance....unaware that she had nonetheless laid her hand gently on Eric's forearm, which was resting on the window.

"I wonder if it would be too much to ask...for another favor?" she managed to get out.

Was she imagining things, or did his eyes darken sensually...his gaze lower to her mouth....for just a split second? A look unlike any that a man had ever given her.

"Sure...what is it?" he asked, meeting her eyes and mustering an easy smile.

"I just wanted to thank Jack and Diane for their hospitality...for making me feel welcome. Would you extend my invitation to dinner here tomorrow night? Of course, you're invited as well....you've made me feel...very welcome," her words stammered out, and Ella could feel the flush creeping over her cheeks.

The sickening pit in her stomach grew...vividly summoning up a memory of the time she'd asked her high school crush to a dance...only to have him laugh at her gangly form, plain features, and braces and tell her what a "dog" she was...

But this was just a neighborly gesture...no harm in it at all...

Why, then, did she feel such relief, such warmth, when a delighted smile stretched across Eric's face? His eyes twinkled and he assured her, "We'll all be here....you can count on it. But what should we bring? Uh uh, no arguing....Diane will insist on it."

When Eric closed his right hand over hers, Ella glanced down in surprise and realized for the first time that she had been resting her palm on his arm. She resisted the urge to pull it away.

It's part of the mission, after all....and his skin is so warm...

Pursing her lips, she furrowed her brow, thought for a moment, and suggested, "How about some corn on the cob and russet potatoes. I was planning on something simple, like throwing a few steaks on the grill."

"I'll pass it along...see you again when I've got the materials for your Crosley," Eric agreed, shifting his truck into drive and pulling away.

She waved after him, then slipped back inside.

A deep breath. Then another. Slowly, Ella worked to get her frame of mind back on the job. As she proceeded upstairs to her office, the young FBI agent chided herself inwardly for letting herself be affected by her subject's obvious animal magnetism and his ability to project empathy.

He's a consummate player, remember his file. You're falling for a routine he's used on dozens of other women, you idiot.

Yet when Ella brought the new file she'd received up on her screen, she found herself sympathizing with Eric Griffin Devries anew.

No conclusive information available on his mother....Records provided on three different women who might be the one....Woman one, a Jane Doe...pronounced dead at a county hospital in Philadelphia...died of AIDS acquired through her intravenous drug habit...

Woman two, a born-again Christian and paralegal, married with two children now...but records indicate that years ago, she had been arrested for prostitution...spent time in a mental institution...and then began rebuilding her life when she got out...

Woman three, worked as ground crew at the Cleveland airport and had been a volunteer at a shelter for homeless teens for over fifteen years...past records on her were spotty...nothing criminal...but she seemed to have changed address at least once a month for a period of years when she was much younger.

The common tie linking all of them: each woman's name was listed on a birth certificate for a male child, age corresponding to that of Mr. Devries...and the child's name designated "Eric".

That's the best they'd been able to do.

Ella logged off, shaking her head.

He'd had a rough childhood, to say the least. What baffled her was that he'd told her as much...openly. But why?

Folding her arms across her chest again, she paced down the hall, brooding about Eric's background. It was a good thing that he wasn't privy to the kind of information the FBI could dig up. Ella didn't think that he'd be happy to learn any of what she'd found. Would it be better to know that his mother had died after a lifetime of intravenous drug use? Or that she'd found religion and started another family...moving on without him? Or that she regretted having lost track of him, and was salving her guilty conscience by volunteering at the kind of shelter she imagined he might have found his way to?

Perhaps she needed to find out exactly when he first arrived in this little hamlet...and who took him in.

A gut feeling told her that it all came back to Jack and Diane...a down-to-earth couple that looked like they'd probably taken in more than a few strays in their lifetime...

Puzzling over the patchwork background of Eric's life, Ella decided that it was time she had a shower. The morning was long past, and her mop of dark, curly hair needed washing. She rifled through her dresser for a pair of cutoff jean shorts and yellow tank top, then headed into the spacious bathroom attached to the master bedroom to indulge in the first shower she'd taken in this palatial house.

This bathroom is almost sinful....practically my own spa... she mused as the steamy spray began to pound down on her head and shoulders.

party plans

“My arm still tingles where she touched it Jack what’s wrong with me?”

All three of us know what it is Eric; you just have to face it and deal with it.

That’s now way to speak to him Jack, Eric is our friend!

“I know ma but you have to admit it, Eric has finally met someone special and I think he’s falling for her!”

But you say it like it’s a curse, you know that’s what Eric has wanted all these years…since we first found him?

And so it had gone since Eric had walked back into the “Tavern” and asked for his duffel bag, his eyes betraying the pain and confusion he felt and Diane forcing him to confess before she handed the bag over. The conversation had moved to the kitchen where all the serious discussions had and after a cup of java Eric had laid his troubles on the table.

“Look you told me it would come in time. I’ve made the decision this last time out I was done betraying the trust and false hopes of the women I stayed with and now if I don’t come clean with this one what chance would we have?”

“Cross that bridge when you come to it son…But be clean with her before it gets too serious or you’ll break two hearts.”

“You did tell those other ladies up front what the agreement was, didn’t you Eric?”

Eric had winced at that question and yet he answered it honestly, loathing discussing his “business”.

“We had an agreement before we started, always on paper and always clearly stating the time it was to end the contract. I never asked or expected any bonuses and yet when they were given I didn’t want to insult them. I knew my leaving hurt them but knew too I could never stay and give them what they wanted.”

And yet ironically he had returned “home” to find himself doing the very same thing he had refused while he was away and questioned what was different.

“She looks at me and I see what I’ve always dreamed of. A woman I could care for and not worry about material things over, one who was honest and would accept me for what I am. Is that too crazy?”

Neither Jack nor Diane had argued it was and as he left Eric told them of the date and time set for the meal and listened to them gently “argue” over what they would bring.

“Eric said one dish a piece and there’s three of us, that means potatoes, corn on the cob and some fresh bread I’ll make”

“One dish each ma and Eric will likely find a good wine to go with the steaks”

“So like I said pa I’ll bring his dish too as he’ll at least likely know wine isn’t served in a BOWL.”

Grinning Eric had closed the door and hastened to do his errands. The stop at the bank and the manager reassuring him the six-figure deposit would be handled as always, placed into accounts that weren’t drawn on except by remote locations and then only the interest, with each account bearing a different name…

Then to the hardware store where the smiling face of Tom Gruebely lead him to the wiring aisle and helped him find wire, solder and a pencil soldering iron, commenting on the meeting in the Karen’s Coffee Shoppe repeatedly until Eric relented and agreed.

“She is something special and if I can I’m going to hang on to her.”

From there the “Grog House” and a 30 minute consultation with the couple that ran it, and with the choice of wine came the news they were great, great grand parents…

Six o’clock and Eric was in the shower, then dressing into dark suit pants and a loose sweater, the fresh flowers he had returned and found waiting with the bottle of wine as he scooped both up and hopped into his waiting truck.

“I’m early” Eric smiled as he took in the vision of Ella in a dress, her figure filling it out nicely as he offered the gifts and apology. “I had hoped we might talk?”

“Hello Eric, we came to help with the meal? “ Came the gentle words as he stepped into the front room. “I’m sorry son we thought we might get acquainted.

“It’s no problem Diane” Eric covered it over and kissed her cheek. “I can repair the player and Ella can choose some vinyl for us to listen to while we eat, if that works with our pretty hostess?”

And to his own surprise he meant it, the thought of a good meal, friends and music over weighing the confession he had been ready to make.

Ella's eyebrows rose skeptically at Eric's comment about the 'pretty hostess' he's probably used that line so often it rolls right off his tongue, but she nonetheless accepted the fragrant flowers and bottle of wine with a smile.

"I'll just go put these in some water and open the wine to let it breathe. Then I'm going to shoo everyone out to the backyard...I figure we should enjoy the view of the river, so I've already set a picnic table out there," she informed her guests.

As the saying goes, many hands make quick work, and in no time at all the steaks were ready for the grill, the potatoes had been prepped and wrapped in foil, and most of the silk had been removed from the corn, which remained in the husk for better flavor. When Eric announced that the Crosley had been fixed, Jack insisted on a toast (to the best and most modest handyman ever). Ella fetched some glasses and poured all of them a glass of the chianti that Eric had brought.

"To a man with skilled hands," Ella pronounced with a mischievous wink and a smirk as she raised her glass. She regretted it when it brought an embarrassed flush to his face and hearty laughter from both Jack and Diane.

Obviously, she was missing some private joke...

Shrugging, she chased them all out onto the back terrace where Jack took it upon himself to load the grill up with their dinner. After choosing one of her favorite old LPs to give them some background music, she went outside to join them.

No sooner had she set foot on the patio, however, than Jack grasped her hand and pulled her out to the grass, insisting that this was 'dancin' music'.

Ella grinned delightedly and played along. She hadn't danced in years....not since she lost her dad...

Jack was careful not to step on her toes, since she hadn't bothered to put on any shoes. Her dress was a simple, white sundress, with a low scooped neck, and even more dramatic plunge in the back (baring the small of her back), and a flowing skirt that fell to her knees.

"Dear, are you going to leave me to sit out while you flirt with the pretty young girls?" Diane chuckled as she sat at the table.

Jack began to disengage, drawing back from Ella with an apologetic look in his eyes. "Sorry, Ella, but if I leave Diane all by her lonesome during Embraceable You, I'll never hear the end of it."

As Ella stepped out of their platonic half-embrace, she grinned and assured him, "It's okay, I can check on the steaks anyw--"

Her words were cut short as she felt a broad, masculine palm on her shoulder and another on her elbow, gently turning her around...

From the moment Eric walked into the door he knew he had made the biggest mistake in his life. Not because he hadn’t wanted to come to Ella’s home and welcome her, not because he hadn’t truly believed her player was worth repairing or that he wanted to repair it for her but because of his two so called “friends” that had arrived before him.

The twinkles in both sets of eyes had warned him. The knowing smiles on their faces had frightened him. And when Jack had insisted on dancing on the grass and Diane had seated herself quietly he knew he was in deep trouble.

Diane’s normally angelic face had become a devilish mask and as she nodded to Jack as he danced with Ella in her back yard he knew indeed he had been…

Set up.

He sighed as Jack smiled and thanked Ella for the dance and moved towards their hostess knowing if he didn’t “cave in” now the two would relentlessly repeat stunt after stunt until he did later in the evening.

Still it was what he wanted. An intimate moment with the very women who had stolen all of his attention and budding fondness…

“I’d be honored if you’d give me the privilege of finishing this dance with you Ella”

Her face showed surprise, her eyes wariness and then both changed and lit brightly as she smiled and accepted…

Yes, I’d like that..

And then she was in his arms. Not the parental stance Jack had used but the intimate closeness two friends might use when feeling that intense animal magnetism that is present when they are becoming close in spirit…and the music and another Ella’s voice wrapped itself around them…


Embrace me, my sweet embraceable you
Embrace me, you irreplaceable you

Just one look at you
My heart grew tipsy in me
You and you alone
Bring out the Gypsy in me

I love all the many charms about you
Above all, I want my arms about you

Don't be a naughty baby
Come to mama, come to mama do
My sweet embraceable you


I love all the many charms about you
Above all, I want my arms about you

Don't be a naughty baby
Come to mama, come to mama do
My sweet embraceable you…


“You two going to come and eat or do we take it home?

Eric heard the words and it stunned him. So wrapped up in the warmth of Ella’s company he wasn’t even aware the song was over and by the conspiratorial looks on Jack and Diane’s face he now knew the entire vinyl had finished…

“Thank You” Eric murmured gently…reluctant to break the intimacy of the moment Ella and he had literally danced into but grateful nonetheless for it. “For asking me here and the dance…”

And so much more he didn’t dare yet say to this stranger who had waltzed into his life.

“I think we better join them before the carry out their threats..”

How had he known just where to touch her?

As Ella sat with her guests at the table out on her back terrace, she felt her mind wandering back to the electric feel of Eric's fingertips each time they grazed the small of her back. He'd held her close -- not too close, but enough for them each to bask in the warmth of the other -- and as his palm rested against her lower back, his fingers had absently stroked her bare skin, sending ripples of pleasure through her.

No wonder she'd lost track of her surroundings and danced with him until the record was over.

She was growing to understand the attraction he'd held for all of his previous conquests.

On the other hand, despite her best efforts to send out subtle "feelers" for more clues about his past, by the end of the meal she was no closer to understanding his motivation for the cycle of seduction, abandonment, and profiteering that had brought his case to her desk.

"So...how long have you all known each other?" Ella had asked at a seemingly opportune moment when they were all enjoying their steaks.

Diane studied this young woman who had apparently captured Eric's fancy. She seemed nice enough...a little socially awkward maybe...but what worried Diane was Ella's intensity. She just didn't seem to know how to relax...and that struck Diane as a bit "off". Of course, Eric probably didn't see that at all, bless his heart. But could she help it if she was protective of him? The closest thing she and Jack had ever had to a son...

Jack chewed on his steak with gusto and carried on an even heartier conversation with the young lady, all the while steering them back to nice, comfortable, neutral topics. Sure, Eric liked her, and the man could look out for himself. But there was no reason to tell her all the details of his past right away...let the kids get comfortable first...after all, Eric had been in a pretty bad place when they'd first met him, poor kid...that's not something a man should have to share right away...

"Oh, we go way back...I can't even remember if he had his driver's license at the time," Jack answered.

Ella grinned good-naturedly, wisely sensing that she needed to keep the tone of conversation light, convivial, and free of anything too inquisitorial. Opting for a joke, she teased, "What, no ID, but you let him in the bar anyway?"

"Tavern, Ella, tavern," Jack growled although his eyes danced merrily.

Ella laughed and took a sip of her wine. This could be dangerous...it had been a long, long time since she'd enjoyed the relaxed company of people like this...so down to earth and amiable.

She could grow to like this...perhaps too much for her own good...

Eric

Remaining in the background Eric silently worshipped the woman who had come so quickly into his life and measured the difference she had made in it.

Already she had blended into his "family", becoming the daughter Jack and Diane had lost, and accepting the gentle teasing they gave her while returning it with her own and somehow spreading the warmth that existed back at not only Jack and Diane but somehow including Eric.

Her eyes puzzled Eric at times though and as he stretched in the recliner he had retreated to he mulled that puzzlement over and over in his mind.

*She was an executive, an owner of her own company, she's used to making shrewd, fast assessments of people and can't drop that habit overnight* He concluded and moved to accept Diane into his arms and kiss her forhead gently as the couple began making noises thay had to be going.

"Go slow and gentle, son" Jack murmurmed as he gave Eric's hand the familiar vise like grip.

"I would never hurt her Jack" Eric replied his eyes on Ella as she too was hugging Diane and chatting merrily about a planned shopping trip into town in the morning.

"It's not her I'm talking about son...it's you. She's a lovely woman and appears to be quite the lady, but I don't want to see..."

The two men had turned and both were looking at the ladies as thier faces glowed over the growing expedition...and as if they knew the attention was on them they both turned to smile atthe men.

Eric returned the smile and Jack's grip, knowing the older mans words were true as well as his heart, and knowing he would never openly doubt him...

"I will Jack and thanks for everything."

Arm in arm the two left and Eric stood at the doorway admiring how the couple still awed him with the happiness that existed between them until they disappeared into dark and he turned to his hostess.

"I'll help tidy things up knowing you have a busy morning planned?" He offered. And split the last of the wine with you...

"Never turn down help offered by a gentleman" Ella replied with a smile and led the way back to where the remnants of thier meal lingered.

"You seem confident I'm a gentleman." Eric joked and then stopped quickly as Ella spun on her feet, her lips stiffly pursed to reply and then softening as she replied.

"The same could be said for you Eric...couldn't it?"

The words made Eric pause and then smile as he admitted she was right and he reached for the same bowl Ella was and thier hands brushed...

"Touche' " Eric smiled and straightened still holding the bowl as he breathed in the heady scent of Ella so close to him. "Mais même un escroc ne nuirait jamais une telle femme charmante comme vous"

Ella was the greatest actress on earth.

Her performance, sadly, would never win critical acclaim from an adoring public, but hopefully it would get her that much closer to learning more about her subject, Eric Griffin Devries.

She hated shopping.

But when Diane offered to show her around town and help her get acquainted with the best places to buy furniture and other knick-knacks to give the villa a more "lived-in" look, Ella accepted readily with the most eager smile she could muster.

Perhaps it would be better than clothes shopping. Ella had never really exorcised the ghosts of her youth, and the awkwardness she felt around other girls who preened themselves in their stylish fashions while she wore jeans and tee shirts from the discount mart.

"I'll meet you downtown at Karen's coffeeshop, say at 10:00?" Ella suggested as she walked with Diane to the door. "I have an errand to run at the bank before that."

Diane agreed, and then she and Jack departed, leaving Ella alone with a man who was exerting an increasing pull in her emotions.

This is a case... she reminded herself.

She tried to keep that in mind....her own personal mantra...

But when Eric's hand brushed hers as they were picking up the dishes, her heart gave a booming thump that echoed throughout her entire body and temporarily drowned out all thoughts in her mind. Her gaze locked with his in that sweet, heady moment and if Ella didn't know better, she might have imagined that he was looking at her as if she were...were...alluring?

Ridiculous.

Reluctantly, Ella drew her hand away from his and inclined her head in a slight bow, both acknowledging his compliment and deflecting it.

"If anyone has the power to charm in this room, it's you," she grinned as she gathered up several plates. Her eyes flared mischievously as she added, "However, if you're going to speak French, then I'm afraid you'll have to stay for a digestif. House rules."

Eric chuckled and followed her to the kitchen. "You were raised in a civilized home, I see."

"Oh, I just made that rule up," Ella sassed with a dismissive wave of her hand, amazed at how comfortable this playful banter felt. Why was this so easy when it was just an act? ...It WAS just an act...wasn't it?

They stood side-by-side at the kitchen sink, rinsing dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. Ella was struck by how decidedly domestic it all was...and by the pleasantly warm tingle that hummed along her skin whenever Eric's hip or thigh brushed hers.

At last, they were ready to settle onto the sofa in her living room, Eric with another glass of wine and she with a snifter of cognac. Since they'd dined outside, she'd never turned on the overhead lights -- just a small lamp on the endtable, which left the room in soft light and shadow.

They eased down onto opposite corners of the sofa, relaxing against the pillows and turning inward to face each other. And then it hit.

The dreaded, awkward silent pause.

Sadly, Ella was all-too familiar with this pause.

Eric, however, seemed to have a better store of social skills to draw upon. He lifted his glass slightly in a toast and said, "To a wonderful dinner. Thank you."

Ella smiled and raised her own glass. "And to a man who saved my most precious possession. Thank you."

After they had both sipped and savored a draught, conversation flowed more easily, turning first to music, then to their respective travels, and finally -- to Ella's great satisfaction, to relationships.

Now maybe I can dig for some more information on him... she thought.

But it was with considerable consternation that she noticed that the questions all kept turning back on her. That certainly was of no use! And bloody little interest...there's nothing to tell... Nonetheless, she supposed she'd have to give a little in order to get a little...

"So, you weren't worried about leaving anything behind when you moved to a small town like this?" Eric asked her, and Ella could hear the unspoken "or anyone" in his voice.

Her expression grew thoughtful as she looked down at her brandy snifter and trailed a fingertip around the rim. "Not really. My career took first priority. I didn't really have time for any other attachments...and I was ready to leave the career behind."

"A workaholic, eh?" her handsome companion teased.

"I guess," Ella sighed, raising her eyes to his and shrugging nonchalantly. "With work, I know my time will be well-spent and my effort will be rewarded. I haven't ever been able to get the same satisfaction with anything else."

Or anyone.

It was supposed to be simple conversation...something to keep Eric talking so she could ply him for details about himself. But the admission left Ella more uncomfortable than she liked...a dry lump took up residence in her throat and she found it difficult to meet his eyes. Damn it, damn it....don't let him feel sorry for me....don't want that... This was something she'd just shoved aside in herself while her life went along on auto-pilot...why did it sting so much? She should be numb to this by now...she'd accepted it...

Eric

Ella had piqued Eric's curiousity and yet he held back from pushing, instinct guiding him and telling him the effort it took for her to relate the little she had, his heart telling him the fear she had of being hurt for those tiny admiisions from her soul...

A fear he knew all too well from his own past and experiences...

"With work, I know my time will be well-spent and my effort will be rewarded. I haven't ever been able to get the same satisfaction with anything else."

The look that came with the brave words only amplified the feeling of fear Ella was facing and yet by her own earlier submission she had laid aside her carreer to come to this town...his town...

The light played off of Ella's faced and highlighted the gentle and sharp contrasts within her face, the long neck and well shaped swells below that supported it and Eric knew his heart was slipping away...giving itself to this newcomer who was doing what tens of other women had failed to do with thier offers of money and riches...

"You're a brave and beautiful woman Ella." Eric offered the compliment gently and was surprised by the flame that crept into her eyes. Which word had disturbed her in his sincere offering or was it the gift bearer himself?

"Brave to set aside what you're comfortable with and come to a new world" He persisted and watched her features relax. "You've already made good friends and will make more, and all those friends want is what you feel you wish to share of yourself. I've found it's almost life restoring in a way to be able to return to ones that want nothinf from you except the time and insight you give them."

Ella remained relaxed, the last of her drink swirling in her glass as she rocked it, her eyes considering what Eric had just spoken...

And Eric drew a dangerous conclusion...

"Beauty comes in two forms Ella. In the short time I've known you I can see your inner strength and calm, your righteousness and inner thoughts of justice...you're quite sure of yourself in all of that. But on the outside? You're hiding from something. Any man would give his right arm to be with you, right here and now, and you've been the perfect host in allowing me...Gracious, relaxed and beautiful..."

Ella cringed again. Not in the calm she imposed on her features but in her eyes as if the word "beauty" were a whip lashing at her each time it was spoken...

"I'd like us to be friends Ella. Someone to each other that can be honest and non-judging, I can use another and think perhaps you might enjoy it as well?"

Eric longed to pull Ella from the pillows she rested against and hold her to him...smother her lips and face with his kisses and promise undying love to her...but knew she would only laugh softly at him or push him away at this time...

He rose slowly. His eyes taking in every feature the flickering light exposed, his lips smiling softly as he extended his hands...

"Anytime you need something fixed. Precious or not you can come to me and I'll help, no strings attached..."

Still she sat and watched. Now hiding behind the motion of draining her glass and ignoring his offered hands. And yet it didn't hurt as much as Eric had thought it might...this refusal...

"Thank you for the wonderful evening" ... Eric was tempted to say more, to tell her how he had enjoyed being with her, or close to her but knew he had presses a tender issue far enough...

"Don't let Diane walk your legs off. She's a regular blood hound when she smells a shopping bargain...Jack and I will be off doing some small "chores" most of the day and if you find time we could meet you for an early evening meal...my treat? But if it doesn't work that's allright as well and I'll see you at the "frolic?"

He showed himself to the door, looking back a final time to see Ella still seated, the glass still in her hands as she stared at the tiny light beside her...and closed the door carefully behind him.

The ride home was the longest one he could ever remember, his thoughts filled with a woman who tore at his heart and filled his mind with confusing contradictions...