Re-Organizing - 1. Chapter 1

The first thing I noticed was, of course, the fact that Jacob was sitting up and, obviously, could see. The second thing I noticed was his twin brother staring at him in shock. The third thing I noticed was his eyes. I looked up to see that Chris, Scott, Billy and Andrew were all staring at Jake. I rushed to him and hugged him; I would deal with his eyes soon enough.

“How do you feel?” I asked. “Can you see everything fine?”

“I can see perfectly, Greg. I can also smell pretty good. Is that bacon?” Jake said with a grin.

“I want you to—” I stopped because I heard others coming. “Billy, shut that door from the outside. No one enters. Send the footman for Riva to take your place before you come back in. I don’t care if Prince George himself shows up; no one else comes in here.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Billy replied and quickly stepped out and shut the door.

“What’s going on, Greg?” Jake asked, starting to become concerned.

“I just want to check you over before you see everyone,” I lied. “Can you move your legs?”

He wriggled his toes and moved his feet all around, then lifted each leg and bent each knee. “Seems fine,” he said. “Help me stand.”

I watched as he turned and put his feet on the floor, then steadied him as he stood. He nodded, so I moved my hands away, keeping them close to catch him. He shrugged and took a few steps, then did a deep knee bend, a few jumping jacks, and ran in place for a few seconds. He smiled at me as if to say everything was fine, but his smile quickly faded.

“There’s something you’re not telling me, Greg.” He looked around at our friends, then said, “Everyone’s silent and staring at me, and I can see it on your faces. What’s wrong?”

The door opened, and Billy slipped inside. “Tony’s on the door. I don’t think Josh’s shouts were loud enough for humans to hear, but the staff knows something’s happening.”

Lowering my voice to a whisper, I sent Andrew to quiet the staff, then I turned to Jake and said, “I need you to concentrate on your eyes. Imagine them as you saw them in the mirror at home. Make them your human color.”

He stared at me for a second, then whispered, “What’s wrong with my eyes? And why are we whispering?”

“We are whispering because I don’t want anyone to know there’s something unusual about you, Jake, not before we figure out what it means. I’m not even going to ask George about this one.”

“You’re scaring me, Greg,” Jake said. “Tell me.”

“Do we have a mirror?” I asked. Billy rushed to the bathroom and I heard something break. He returned with a shaving mirror that used to hang on the wall. I held it up for Jake to see.

“What the… Greg? Why are my eyes silver?” Jake asked in a mixture of fear, confusion, and awe.

“I told you, Jake. I don’t know, but until you can hide them, none of us is leaving this room,” I stated firmly.

It took him forty-five minutes to make his eyes their original color. When he did that, I put him back in bed and told him to get ready to put on a performance. When I opened the door, I asked Riva if he heard our whispered conversation. He said he heard nothing he would ever repeat, so I punched his arm and sent him to get David and Wanda. When they came in, Jake acted groggy, blinking his eyes and muttering. His acting was horrible, but they bought it. Maybe they were too busy being happy that he could walk and see.

When we all finally got to breakfast, I apologized to the staff for our tardiness. Of course, Andrew said that I set the rules, but I still felt it was rude to make others wait. When he saw Jake walk in with his parents and twin, he smiled and said we could be late every day if we brought such good news. I asked him to sit and discuss the household while we ate, but after ten minutes of trying, I realized I would have to order him to sit, and I wasn’t willing to do that, so I asked him to come to my office at eight.

During the night, Jonesy had helped Billy compose a text that sounded like Baron Evans. They then used the baron’s phone to text his Council, summoning them to meet on Thursday and saying that he was unavailable until that meeting. This caused the Steward’s phone to receive several text messages, to which they replied that he was unavailable as well and that all would be explained at the meeting.

I turned on the computer and was surprised when I knew the password. When I considered it, I realized I must have gotten it from what little blood I drained from the late Baron as he died. I found his schedule and was happy to find the next scheduled Court was the first week of December. His only scheduled meetings were with his Steward and the man we identified as his treasurer, the position I had given Brian and called Chancellor of the Exchequer.

Josh called Alan and apologized for not making it to the school, saying that he had a family emergency and asking Alan to bring the blueprints and photos to James’ house. He asked how things were going, was told there were no problems, and was told that every worker was interested in building more schools. Josh asked him to ask how many of them might be available for renovation work in the next few months while we sorted out the next school. When Josh was done with his call, Billy got my attention.

“Greg, I’ve been thinking about something.”

I laughed, “That’s good, Billy. I’m glad to know you’re thinking.”

He scowled. “You remember when we teased you about using the ‘royal we’?”

“Yeah,” I said slowly.

“Well, when you’re speaking as the Baron, you’re speaking for Scott too. That alone justifies saying ‘we’, right?” he asked.

“I suppose, but it seems so odd,” I replied.

“And when you’re speaking as the Baron, you’re speaking for your entire Council, right?”, Billy went on, ignoring my protest.

I nodded, knowing there was more.

“And,” he persisted, “now that you’ll be speaking as the Baron of Pittsburgh, you’ll be speaking for every vampire in the barony. That certainly justifies using ‘we.’”

I stared at him, shocked that I had never looked at it this way. I nodded. “I can’t argue with your logic, but let’s see how George conducts his Court. If he doesn’t use ‘we,’ I’ll ask him and present your thoughts.”

The footman knocked and let Andrew enter. “You wanted to discuss the household, My Lord?”

“We did,” I replied. Billy laughed. By ‘we,’ I meant the three of us, but considering what we had been discussing, it was a bit humorous. When Andrew looked at him, Billy felt the need to explain about our conversation.

Andrew looked at me and asked, “May I speak freely, My Lord?”

“Please have a seat, Andrew. In this room, with the door closed, you are always allowed to speak freely,” I said. “And to use my name,” I added.

He sat and said, “Billy is spot on, Greg. I worked for the first Duke of Wellington, and in private, he was much like you. Preferring his Christian name over his title, enjoying the company of his friends and family, and, while he was the son of an Earl, he was not entirely comfortable being a noble himself. Like you, he loved the men who served under him, and the stories that he shed tears over the loss of life after a battle don’t come close to expressing his grief.

“During one private audience with Queen Victoria, I heard her admonish him for a comment he made about what he also called ‘the royal we.’ She explained it much like Billy did, saying that when she spoke, she spoke for Parliament, she spoke for The Privy Council, and she spoke for the Empire. By his time, a Duke’s Court was nothing like what you will have. They no longer listened to the issues of their subjects; just the whining complaints of the minor nobility. But from that day forward, Arthur Wellesley used ‘we’ whenever he was speaking as the Duke of Wellington. Aside from use by the Monarch, it has fallen out of favor in the United Kingdom, but I believe it is quite appropriate for our nobles.”

“So, you’re saying I should use it?” I asked.

“I am simply telling you a story, Greg,” Andrew replied. “And telling you how I would see it if you used it. What you do is your choice, but a good leader does what he feels is right, regardless of what others think.”

“We shall consider your counsel,” I tried. I shook my head and said, “See? That just sounds so stuck up.”

“Because you made it stuck up, Greg,” Chris said. “Especially in this setting. If you had said ‘we will think about it’, it may have sounded better, but consider your Court. ‘We have reviewed your petition, Mr. Barnes and this Court finds’ blah blah… That sounds judicial and decisive. If you use ‘I’ in that same statement, it sounds pompous, as if you needed no advice. And I will say, in your Court, you did attempt to refer to yourself as this Court or the Court. I don’t think you used ‘I’ more than a dozen times.”

I nodded, raised an eyebrow, and said, “We will take it under advisement,” but my voice raised, making it sound like a question.

Scott, Billy, and Brian nodded as Chris said, “That sounds like a judge, and it implies that we, being your council, will be involved in the decision. I’ll be honest, Greg, when Billy first suggested it, I thought he was nuts, but now, at least in Court, I like it.”

I slowly nodded, then turned back to Andrew and said, “Well, this isn’t why I asked you here, so let’s get to that.” I went on to ask Andrew about the living conditions, pay, and work schedules for household staff. I was shocked to find they worked for the same pay they received in the early 1920s. I was further shocked to find that they lived in rooms in the attic that were smaller than my closet. When I asked Jonesy, he confirmed that the Marshals were similarly underpaid and overworked by human standards. I couldn’t allow this to continue.

“I’m not judging you for this at all, Andrew. You had to work with what the late baron gave you, though I’m shocked there’s still a staff with these wages,” I said.

“With all due respect, Greg, being on the household staff of a baron carries a lot more prestige than being a housekeeper at a hotel. Once they are employed, it’s hard to leave. If a baron gives a vampire a bad reference, he or she might never work again.”

“Has everyone worked here for almost a hundred years?”

“Many for longer, Greg. Shall I list each and their date of employment?” Andrew asked.

“Actually, yes. I want you to create a list of every staff member and their date of hire.” I looked up and saw that Brian knew what I was thinking and was already working on a spreadsheet. “What’s your best guess, Brian?”

“I would say, at a minimum, half a million, Greg,” Brian said, still working on his spreadsheet. “And that’s at minimum wage, with no raises.”

“Not trying to cause problems for you Andrew, but how hard would it have been for you if I had walked into the assembly hall yesterday and dismissed the entire staff, save you and Amy?”

Andrew thought for a moment, then said, “I could have a full staff in two weeks, Greg.”

“How?” Billy asked, amazed.

“I know people,” Andrew grinned. “Honestly, Billy, I know who to call to get names of those who are either undervalued or working in a different field, due to modern households not having large staffs.”

“Start making those calls, Andrew,” I said. “I want the entire staff in the formal dining room in half an hour.”

“My Lord?” Andrew squeaked.

“Don’t worry, I’m not dismissing them, but some may leave. How long has the newest staffer been here?”

“That would be the footman, Paddy. He started when he was five and he just turned twelve.” With a concerned voice, Andrew asked, “May I ask what you’re going to do?”

“I’m going to correct an injustice, Andrew.” I looked at Jonesy and asked, “Have most of the Marshals been here this long as well?”

He thought for a moment, then said, “Thirteen of us have been here since before the depression, Greg.”

“That’s the timeframe I’m looking for. Please ask Captain Pierce to assemble those thirteen with the staff. If they’re on duty, choose a junior to replace them for our meeting. Am I to assume that Tommy will be able to replace them?”

“Within twenty-four hours,” he nodded.

“Andrew, Jonesy, you have your orders,” I said as I stood. “Tony, I’ll need a suit.”

Andrew, Jonesy, and Tony rushed to do as I asked. Brian said, “You can’t take that much from the Barony, Greg. A quick estimate puts the total around $16 million.”

“The back pay will come from us,” Scott replied before I could. “Their future wages will come from the barony, Brian, and if it’s too much, we’ll personally pay the difference.” He then turned and said, “Johnny, I’ll need a suit too. Ask Tony to help you if you need.”

Johnny went running. “I guess I should get dressed up too,” Billy said.

“Greg and Scott should do this,” Chris said. “They’re the heads of the house; you’re just their Steward, no offense.”

Billy thought for a second, then nodded. “Then we’ll keep working on other things.”

Thirty minutes later, Scott and I walked into the dining room. The assembled staff and Marshals looked more nervous than they did yesterday, so I smiled, trying to relax them.

“It has come to our attention that you are grossly underpaid. We intend to rectify that immediately. We will be looking at every position to determine an exact number, but expect your next pay to be at least double the last.” That relaxed them. “It is our understanding that most of you have worked in this house for many, many years without a raise in pay. We intend to rectify that as well. We are calculating based on the date you joined the household, but those of you who have been here fifty years or more can expect a payment of approximately five hundred thousand dollars.”

Many of their jaws dropped open in shock, and a few of them shed tears. “With such a windfall, we expect many of you might want to move on. We hope you choose to stay, but if you move on, you will receive excellent references. Those who remain, as well as any we hire in the future, can expect better housing, better meals, and more time off to enjoy your increased wages. As you heard yesterday, we do not see things in the same way as the late baron. We value you; we appreciate all you do to make our lives comfortable, to keep our home clean, and to keep us and our children safe. The least we can do is demonstrate this by providing you with proper compensation.

“Unfortunately, we must attend Prince George’s Court tomorrow, so we cannot stay and answer your questions. We will have more details as we work on the housing issue. Thank you all for everything you do and for listening to our long-winded speeches.”

I was happy when several of them felt comfortable enough to laugh as Scott and I headed back to the office. Andrew was just shy of running with Captain Pierce on his heels, both having had to dismiss their elated staff. When I sat at my desk, I just stared at them, wondering which would speak first. They spoke at the same time.

“My Lord, not to suggest that you are not honorable, but…” Captain Pierce stammered.

“My Lord, will Amy, Andy, and I have to move out?” Andrew asked.

“I meant every word I said, Captain. And I am not insulted by your disbelief. Based on how you’ve been treated, I wouldn’t trust a noble either.” I replied. I then turned to Andrew and said, “As to your moving, Andrew, I will either ask you to move to something nicer or refurbish and expand where you now live. That will be decided when we return.”

“But, My Lord, Chief McNiel will get calls every day from those wanting to work for you,” Captain Pierce argued.

“Then he can choose only the very best, and you can have pride in your force,” I returned.

“Beggin your pardon, My Lord, but am I really getting half a million dollars?” Captain Pierce asked, the shock just now allowing the details to register.

“When did you start with the late baron?” Scott asked.

“1919, My Lord, when I came home from the great war.”

“Then yes, you can expect at least that much. Possibly more, depending on when you were promoted to the various ranks you’ve held here,” I replied. “Now, I honestly am not trying to be rude, or ignore you, but I have a lot to get done before I get on my plane in,” I glanced at my watch, “five hours. What your new wages are will depend on many things that I need to discuss with Chief Marshal McNiel, but you will be getting more than a Captain did under Baron Evans, and you will be getting a check next Friday for at least half a million. Is there anything else that is pressing, Captain?”

That slight reprimand seemed to bring him back to reality. “No, My Lord. I will have vehicles ready for your departure.”

“Thank you, Captain,” I turned to Andrew. “Andrew, please return with Amy as soon as she can leave the kitchen without ruining whatever wonderful things she is making for lunch.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

When the door closed behind them, I looked at Scott and said, “That show was almost worth the sixteen million.”

“Well, I’m willing to bet that it will be over twenty by the time we allow for the higher positions,” Brian said. “Andrew alone should probably get three. While you were giving your speech, I checked on what a butler of a house this large gets paid per year.”

“From having him around for one day, I’d say he’s worth twice whatever number you found,” I replied.

“Josh, figure out what housing properties the barony owns within ten miles of here. Check availability, and we’ll look at conditions when we return. Jake, check the personal ledgers for the same thing, please?” Scott said. He then looked up and said, “Johnny, would you please ask the footman to bring us some drinks?”

“We should stock some in here, babe. Remember to ask Andrew about doing that,” I said, liking the idea of not having to ask someone to fetch constantly.

“It would be nice if you could offer a cup of blood to visitors, Greg. Just like most businessmen offer a drink in their offices,” Chris said.

“I hadn’t thought of that angle, Chris; thanks,” I said. “I was just being selfish.”

Scott smiled. “You were hating that you have to ask someone to fetch for you, Greg. You can’t lie to me.”

“Guilty,” I said with a laugh. “Let’s get out of these monkey suits, and we can see where else to spend some money.”

I was a few feet ahead of Scott as I entered the bedroom, and what I saw stunned me. “Scott! Billy! Come quick!” I shouted in a whisper. Scott ran up behind me, followed seconds later by Billy ready to protect me. When they saw it, they froze. Charlie was holding onto the table as he walked around it, and I could tell by the way he kept looking away, he was debating something. When he saw us, he smiled one of his four-toothed smiles; then he did it. He stepped away from the table and took three steps, then fell on his butt. He didn’t give up, though; he tried several times to stand, but without something to hold onto, it was beyond him, so he quickly crawled to his crying fathers. I didn’t even care that he went straight to Scott, happily babbling “da” as if to say, ‘Did you see what I did, Daddy?”

As we were celebrating, Chris, Brian, and the twins joined us, and when they heard the reason, they all laughed with joy. This led to each of them holding Charlie up by his hands and leading him on a monkey walk around the room. After seven such walks, he was exhausted and cranky. While the twins were wearing out our son, Scott and I had changed out of our suits and into jeans for the plane. Taking the hint, Billy dressed to match, then picked Charlie up, opened his thumb, and sat in the corner to feed our now toddling toddler.

As we walked back to the office, Scott said, “You realize he’ll be running around the castle within a week.”

“We need the exercise,” I replied with a grin.

Trevor was waiting for us in the office, along with a four, maybe five-year-old vampire boy. “My Lords, this is Lucas. While I was downtown this morning, around 3 AM, he approached me and suggested… if you will permit me, I will detail that later, My Lord—”

“Understood, Lord Bowers, please continue,” I said.

“When questioned, he said,” Trevor’s tone softened as he looked down and said, “Tell His Lordship what you told me, Lucas.”

“My father puts me on the street several times a week, My Lord. I’m not allowed back in the house unless I bring back two hundred dollars. He says he doesn’t care how I get it. He said I can steal it or sell my, forgive me My Lord, sell my ass to the perverts for it. When I saw the baronial car, I knew the baron likes young, so I figured I’d try it.”

I was about to ask where his father was when I heard Andrew shout, “Lucas! What are you doing here?” Realizing he had interrupted us, he quickly said, “Forgive me, My Lords. You asked to see Amy and I—”

“Do you know this child?” I asked.

“Yes, My Lord. He is my brother’s son.”

“And where is this brother?” I asked.

“In custody,” Trevor replied, which stunned Andrew.

I turned and called, “Joshua, where’s Craig?”

Josh stepped through the door and said, “In the game room with Chipper, My Lord.”

I looked at Lucas and asked, “Would you like to go hang out with my son and nephew? Craig’s about your age.”

“You’re not going to…” he started, confused. He then seemed to realize I was the Baron and understood that things were different. He turned to his uncle and asked, “You’re not going to make me go back home, are you, Uncle Andrew?”

Andrew didn’t know the details, but he understood the situation. He waited for me to ask, “Do you want to go home, Lucas?”

“No, My Lord, I’d rather stay on the streets.”

“Well, we can’t allow that,” I said, causing his face to fall. “Why don’t you and your Aunt Amy go with Josh and meet Craig and Chipper? Either me or your Uncle Andrew will come get you soon, okay?”

When the boy looked at his uncle this time, Andrew said, “He’s not like Baron Evans, Lucas. Go with Josh, please.”

“Yes, Sir,” the boy said, almost sounding hopeful.

Once Josh, Amy, and Lucas were gone, Andrew said, “Forgive my outburst—”

“Nothing to forgive, Andrew,” I said. “Now, did you hear Lucas’ story?”

“Not all of it, My Lord, I make the effort to tune out conversations in your office,” he replied.

I related Lucas’ story and watched as my stoic butler turned to ice and then to venom. When Andrew appeared and I learned the accused criminal was his brother, I expected it to cause issues between us. Now, I wondered if his brother would live to stand trial. When I finished, Andrew asked exactly what I prayed he would ask.

“What will become of Lucas? Could Amy and I take him, Greg? Please?”

“We cannot decide a man’s guilt on the word of one child, Andrew,” I said. When I said this, I swear he wanted to kill me. I went on, “We need to talk to your brother and talk to Lucas some more. Until this is sorted out, unless the Master of Children objects, we will grant you custody of Lucas.” It was only later that I realized I had automatically switched to the ‘royal we.’ Maybe they were right.

“No objection, My Lord,” Trevor responded.

“Thank you, My Lord. If I may, please advise the Marshals to keep me away from my brother, or you may have to put me on trial,” Andrew growled.

I nodded. “I understand. Go get Amy and take care of Lucas. I’ll come up to your quarters in a bit. And don’t tell me Amy can’t leave the kitchen unsupervised for that long. If she has to, throw it all away, and we’ll order pizza.”

“Her assistants will handle it, Greg. Gods help us all if I suggest we serve you takeaway pizza.”

“Go,” I said as I gently pushed him. He was so dazed by the events it didn’t even register. Once he was gone, I asked Trevor, “The father is in custody, where?”

“In your dungeon, My Lord,” he replied. I raised an eyebrow and waited. Finally, he got it. “There are four cells under the gatehouse, My Lord.”

“Sergeant Riva, Marshal Jones, you will accompany us to the dungeons,” I looked at Jones, “that someone failed to mention.”

“There were much more important issues at the time, My Lord,” he replied, confident that he was right.

“Agreed, Jonesy. Lead on.”

“With respect, My Lord, no,” Jones said. “I won’t take you to the dungeons without four Marshals.”

I looked at Tony, and he said, “He knows the territory and the threat, My Lord. I trust him, so it’s no from me as well.”

I wanted to argue but knew their concerns were sincere, so I said, “Alright, how about we head that way, and along the way, we find or summon the other two?”

“Two conditions, My Lord,” Jonesy said. I glared at him, so he quickly said, “You don’t come within five feet of the bars and touch no metal past the first door.”

“Let’s get moving, Jonesy,” I stated in a voice that made clear my patience was near its end. We started walking, and I asked, “Why can’t I touch the metal?”

“Silver-plated, carbon-fiber coated tungsten-carbide steel, My Lord,” Tony replied. “Marshal service standard, along with the carbon-fiber coated tungsten shackles, tasers, and silver bullets.”

We were walking down the driveway at this point, having pulled the two Marshals off the portico, and I stopped in my tracks at his words, causing Trevor to walk into my back. “Silver bullets? I thought that was werewolves?”

“They work the same way on both of us, My Lord. A single silver bullet won’t kill unless it’s a headshot, but the silver slowly poisons and prevents healing,” Jonesy explained. “Didn’t you ever wonder why we carried handguns?”

I ignored the fact that he just said werewolves were real and focused on the other. I could be killed by a gun. “I just assumed you all were marksmen, and a headshot would be fatal.”

“Thanks for the confidence, My Lord, but no, we’re just like human law enforcement. Trained to aim center of mass,” Tony said. “Um, is there a reason we stopped, My Lord?”

“Just digesting new information, Sergeant,” I said as I started walking. “Please, tell me about the other weapons in your arsenal.”

“Well, we can incapacitate most vampires with a taser. You’re familiar?” Tony asked.

“I am, but aren’t we resistant?” I asked.

“Ours are quite a bit stronger than those the humans carry, My Lord,” Jonesy said. “Though we do have to act fast on a detainee once they’re down.”

I nodded. Tony said, “Prisoners in Court are usually bound wrist and ankle with tungsten-carbide shackles that are connected to a taser-style device that encourages them to behave. If they’re likely to be a problem, the Court can try them in their cell, though technology has advanced to the point that a few Courts have actually used video feeds from the cell to the Court for the Court’s safety.”

“Interesting. Please mention to the Chief that if we don’t have that, I’d like to explore it,” I said as we stopped at a door on the outside of the gatehouse. “I think I know the answer, but why is this door outside the gate?”

“If a prisoner escapes, he isn’t inside the castle grounds, My Lord. For your safety,” Tony replied. “If it were on the inside, they might be tempted to attempt revenge rather than simply fleeing.”

“That’s what I thought,” I said as I watched Tony put on a heavy pair of gloves before opening the door.

“Remember, My Lord—”

“Don’t worry, Tony. I won’t touch anything except the floor,” I said with a weak grin.

I followed Tony and Jonesy down the steps and through another door with Trevor and the other two Marshals following us, locking the doors behind us as we went. When we reached the hall with the cells, there were two that were occupied. I stopped in front of the first and faced the cell, keeping my back inches from the stone wall and as far from the bright silver bars as I could.

“Is this the man, Lord Bowers?” I asked Trevor.

“It is not, My Lord,” he replied.

“Why have our Marshals detained you?” I asked the filthy male vampire in the cell.

“They said I killed my girl, but I didn’t, and ain’t no one saw me do it neither,” he spat.

“You will get your day in Court,” I said. “Have you spoken to a lawyer?”

“Ain’t talked to no one but these cops since I got picked up.”

“We will see that you talk to one within the week,” I promised. “Are you being fed?”

“I get food, but I ain’t had no blood in weeks,” he said, sounding a bit more civil.

“Sergeant Riva, see to it that he receives blood before sunset,” I ordered. “And find a way so he can bathe.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Tony replied, but I knew he wanted to say more.

I gave a firm nod, and Tony understood that was the signal to move on. In the next cell, I found a clean adult male vampire dressed in a bathrobe and boxers.

“This is the father of the minor vampire we are holding, My Lord,” Trevor said, implying that Lucas might be in trouble but not actually saying it. This proved that Trevor was as smart as I expected.

“Do you know why our Marshals have detained you?” I asked.

“They say it’s cause I sent the boy out to earn his keep, My Lord, but there’s no law against that.”

“That is what the Court will determine. What is your name?”

“I’m Lucien Scott, My Lord. My brother’s the Baron’s butler. Tell him I’m here, he’ll set this right,” Lucien begged.

“Sergeant, when you search Mr. Scott’s home, please retrieve clothing so he can maintain his dignity while in here. Keep something set aside so he can appear in our court in something clean,” I ordered.

“Yes, My Lord,” Riva replied. “And food? Blood?”

“We will not have food and blood withheld from our prisoners without good cause, Sergeant. We will treat them as well as circumstances allow,” I stated, as much for the Marshals as for the prisoners.

“Mr. Scott, we will see that you see an attorney before the weekend. He or she will keep you informed of the situation. To be clear, you do not deny sending your son, Lucas, onto the streets of Pittsburgh to obtain funds by whatever means he deems appropriate?” I asked.

“I told him to do favors for the perverts if that’s what you mean, but that’s not illegal,” he argued.

“We have heard enough, Sergeant. Please, escort us out,” I said, then turned and followed Riva and Jonesy back through the silver doors, up the steps, and into the daylight.

“You had something you wanted to say in there, Sergeant?” I asked.

“With respect, My Lord, I feel it best addressed through channels,” he diplomatically responded.

“Fair enough. Let’s get back to the office; I feel like I need a shower.”

“You and me both, Gr… My Lord,” Trevor said.

I smiled at his slip, but it made me wonder if I was too casual. Opa would give me good advice, I was sure.