Red Veil of Murder: The Matt Saga

Chapter One

The plane soared higher. Carrying with it, a reluctant Matt. He'd had to leave. When he saw Ellen aiming at him with a gun, he knew he had to run. It was not his first choice. He'd made a split decision: one that may have saved his life.

All the way to the U.S., he regretted leaving his son behind. He’d been a loner for so long, that in that instant, he had forgotten the most important person to him, his own son. A son he wasn't used to yet. He wasn't even used to the idea of a son. As the miles between him lengthened his heart suffered. The only way he could get through the pain of the separation was to close his heart. His son, his unnamed son, would have to wait. He needed to sort out his life. 

With Ellen knowing he was alive, the police would also know too. There would be a manhunt for him. He’d have to make some important choices, some very big decisions. But first, he had to find Venia. The rest, he knew, would fall into place as time passed.

///

As Ellen held her son close, she cried. She cried for hours. It was just the sheer relief of finally having him with her, safe. The thought that Dean should have been with them broke her heart. She cried with joy and with the sadness of his loss. It was overwhelming.

Veronique had been a godsend, and between the two of them they saw to his every need. They fussed over him. He slept peacefully and woke up happy. With the two of them ensuring he was fed, bathed and dry, as well as loved and enjoyed every time he opened his eyes, the baby was happy. He rarely cried.

Michel Le Sime had an all person bulletin out for Matt at every port, every airport, and every tollgate and border to France. Unfortunately for him, that it had only been activated after Matt had left the country, and as vigilant as every one was being, Matt was no longer on their radar. He was safe, everywhere in the world, except for France. That meant he had the entire world as a playground. As long as he kept a low-ish profile, the world was his oyster. 

Walking down the stairs with the rest of the first class passengers, Matt looked about him. He was finally in Los Angeles. He had no luggage, just the clothes he stood in. Within his pockets was a collection of fake identities.  He had access to his online accounts, with unlimited funds, and more money than he could spend in a lifetime. He just had to decide how and what type of life he wanted; which would all depend on Venia. He smiled to himself. He wanted to make her happy, and wherever she wanted to be, he would be with her.  He left the airport with a broad grin on his face. With every step, he was one step closer to his beloved Venia.

///

Oh, Julian, Venia laughed as her husband kissed her on the neck. She smiled and leant into him as he hugged her from behind. She loved it when he did that. She loved the closeness she had with him. She loved the fact that he couldn't bear to be separated from her, even when she was cooking, like now. She stirred the pan with the pasta sauce. It was his favorite. He was a man of simple tastes; as long as it wasn't burnt he would eat it. She'd found that when they went to expensive restaurants he always chose the simplest selection. She loved that about him. She didn't need to be anything but herself. 

They'd been married a year now: whole glorious, and wonderful year. A year, which had been full of love, laughter, joy and happiness. She had never known happiness like it. It was all she wanted. All she had dreamt of; to have a man. Her man, a man that loved her more than life itself, she didn't care about all the money in the bank. She didn't care about the business. All she wanted was Julian. Although there was this gnawing emptiness deep inside that she couldn't explain. 

She went to work, solely to keep an eye on her employees. She occasionally visited her other cafes, but not as much as she used to. She hated to travel without Julian, her 'Ju Ju.'

Julian hated traveling; it was as much as she could do to get him off his boat to come home. Every day that he went to the marina to take a group sailing, she hated it. She would go to the marina and wait for him to return. Any time she saw a woman looking at her man, she scowled, her eyes thunderous with jealousy. Her long dark hair whipping up behind her in the breeze as though her hair had a life of its own. It showed her every emotion, her every thought, and her eyes would flash with anger. Julian had never known a love like it. He reveled in her jealousy, reveled in the extreme passion she had for him. Reveled in the depth of her love. He gave himself to her fully and loved seeing her waiting on the docks, waving and smiling when she saw him sailing back. No one would ever suspect that they had not been together all their lives. 

Theirs was a love that was meant to be. They were soul mates. Connected. Nothing could ever split them up. Ever.

///

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Matt drove along the highway in disgust. He hated driving a convertible hire car. He had wanted to buy a car immediately, but apparently he needed a credit rating and a history of being in the country first. The fact that he had walked into a car showroom, with the full amount of cash in hand, hadn't meant a thing to them. He had no proof of address, nothing and because of that; they’d refused to sell the car to him. He had furiously put the money back into the briefcase and stormed from the car showroom. Standing at the car hire desk later that day, Matt scowled at the woman behind the desk with all the venom he could muster. 

She had looked at Matt the moment he had walked in. His black eyes glinted with malice. She’d known instantly that he would be a difficult customer. She had been right. He hummed and aah-ed over the cars. He fought with her over the fact that they had no turbo sports cars, no branded luxury cars like Maseratis and Lamborghinis on her car hire list. He had settled for the top of their range Chrysler 300 in black. He’d insisted on the colour, at least.

Matt drove along the highway into Beverly Hills. He wanted a home, one that was befitting Venia and her expensive tastes, but he wanted her to choose it. So, he checked in at the Beverly Hills Hotel. He pulled up outside the cheap American car, which annoyed him badly, and scowled at the valet parking attendant, storming into the hotel.

James Dexter?

Yes, Matt said, still annoyed. 

Ah, yes, we received all your special requests. That will be a month’s booking in the Presidential Suite. Of course, we can supply you with your own butler. Anything else?

Matt growled.

Well, in that case, all we need are your credit cards details to take payment and a deposit for any additional sundries you might incur during your stay with us.

Matt went to get his credit card, but remembered it was all in his own real name.

I have yet to set up local bank accounts, he said as he put his wallet away. I would rather pay cash up front.

The receptionist swallowed in discomfort.

We do accept international credit cards, sir.

No.

It's a large sum of money to have on you in cash, sir.

No worries. Matt put the briefcase on the counter top. Luckily he had been to a bank and withdrawn the funds for the purchase of the car, it came in very handy. Everything nowadays was electronic, it made it too easy for people to find and track someone. He would have to set up a bank account with credit cards in James Dexter’s name, as a matter of urgency.

Matt placed the wads of cash on the counter and watched as the man’s eyes widened slightly. The manager rushed up. They never liked to see large amounts of money displayed in public.

Sir, if I may recommend keeping that in the safe? The world is not as safe as it used to be. They both looked at each other in disbelief and then Matt.

Do I have a safe in my room?

Of course, but it may not be large enough for all that. He eyed the piles of money and the rest, which was still neatly stacked in the briefcase. It's large enough for a passport and a few trinkets, like watches, jewellery, and maybe an iPad, but not more than that. They waited a moment for Matt to speak, but he didn’t. May I assign you a place in it? It will be properly guarded and receipted.

I don't like the idea of not having access to it when I need it.

If you need it at anytime, during the day or night, we will have a hotel director on call at all times. They would be able to access it for you, at a moments notice. Upon seeing all the money, more staff started to fawn over Matt, whereas only moments ago, he had been a ‘nobody.’ Suddenly, he was a ‘somebody.’ He growled to himself.

Hmmmm. Okay.

Please come with me. They went through to the back office where Matt counted the money out on to the counter. The staff around him watched as he did so. All were hiding their thoughts and feelings, but each looked at each other briefly as Matt went to $750,000 and was still counting; there was a lot more to count, too.

I want to send all my bills here. Will you attest to my credit whilst I am here?

Of course, sir. We would be delighted.

I will pay my bills at the end of the week from this amount. You will be reimbursed in cash.

We can put it on your monthly room bill if you prefer?

No, I prefer to pay on a weekly basis.

Yes, sir, as you wish. He inclined his head to Matt.

Management signed the receipt for the money, and Matt watched as they opened the large safe behind the security door. He watched them as they placed the money, all bundled together, on a shelf. As they closed the door tight, he started to leave.

Mr. Dexter?

Matt didn't respond. The manager repeated it, louder.

Mr. DEXTER! Matt stopped suddenly and turned. He made it look as though he had been lost in thought.

Yes?

If you need anything, anything at all, my staff and I will be at your disposal, twenty four hours a day, every day.

Yes, I am sure, Matt said wryly.

Outside the office, a porter stood waiting for him.

Do you have any luggage, Mr. Dexter?

No. I will be visiting my tailor later. My things have yet to arrive from Europe.

Very good, sir.

Matt turned to the manager. 

I will be looking for property in Beverley Hills. I need a good agent. Please arrange the necessary appointments. I also need appointments at a few mens’ stores for clothing. And I need someone to return the hire car. Will the hotel limousine be available to me until I buy a car?

Day and night.

Good.

The jet lag was starting to kick in and Matt suddenly felt tired. All he wanted to do was sleep. The instant he got into his room, he stripped everything off and called for his butler to take his clothes to be cleaned. Moments later, he stepped under the shower. He felt the stress drain away with the water. By the time he wrapped a towel around his waist and walked across to the bed, he was almost asleep.

Before his head hit the pillow Matt was dead asleep. His last thought was of Venia.

Chapter Two

Venia walked into the coffee shop and sat down. Within minutes her usual coffee was placed in front of her. She picked it up and started to drink it. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. She waved her employee over.

You know, I have been drinking this crap for more than a year now, she whispered to her. The girl looked shocked. I think I will have a change. I never liked caffé latte anyway. It's too milky. I can't taste the coffee in it. Bring me a simple American, filter coffee, will you?

Yes, Miss.

Venia loathed the coffee shop. She hated it with a passion. She hated the business with a passion. She wanted to sell it, but it was such a cash cow that every time she went to sell it, something stopped her. The money. Whilst she had all the money rolling in, she loved it. It meant that she and JuJu could spend every day together. She had tried to persuade him to stop sailing, but he wouldn't. She’d sold her yacht. She hated it. Never really liked