Riverwatch

Chapter Three - Blake

As Jake drove his Jeep along the winding road that led from the tall iron gates marking the entrance of the Riverwatch estate to the mansion itself, he glanced out over the lake to his left. The beauty of the setting sun as it reflected off the still waters had not lost its appeal in the years since he'd first seen it.

He had arrived in Harrington Falls five years ago, after spending almost a decade in New York City. The romance of the metropolis had long since worn away by the time he'd made the decision to leave. He'd grown tired of the crowds; tired of the press of humanity on all sides, tired of the hectic pace. He needed a cleansing of the spirit that just wasn't possible to find in the city and one afternoon he decided he had enough. He sold almost everything he owned, packed his Jeep, and headed northeast. Eventually, he wandered into Harrington Falls and decided to stay.

He accomplished a lot since then. With the help of a local bank, he started a construction company, finally putting the engineering degree he'd earned at NYU to good use. He started small, concentrating on additions to existing structures, home improvements, that sort of thing. After a time he discovered that he had a true talent, and interest, for restoring the older homes in the community, bringing them back to the vitality of their youth. He changed the focus of his business and now had a strong following in the surrounding communities. It was his success that brought him to the attention of his current client, Hudson Blake.

Blake was a direct descendant of the family that had started Harrington Falls in the late sixteen hundreds, a fact that he never let anyone forget. Jake had agreed to renovate one of the family mansions, a place known as Stonemoor. He knew the job would provide steady work for the rest of the fall and on into the winter, a period when the available work became scarce.

Jake was beginning to regret that decision.

He hated these meetings with Blake. Held once a week, they were ostensibly to check the progress the crew was making on the renovations. Blake's nature had always made Jake feel inferior. The man was a pompous, condescending ass who wanted everything done yesterday, and got verbally vicious when it wasn't.

No, this was not going to be a fun meeting.

Jake pulled into the cul-de-sac at the end of the drive, and parked beside a sleek, silver Rolls Royce, circa 1937. A wide brick walkway curved across the lawn to the main door of the mansion.

He picked up the door's knocker, a heavy piece of brass molded into the shape of a lion's head, and rapped it sharply three times.

A moment passed before the butler, Charles, opened the door. He glanced at Jake's attire with clear disapproval. Jake was still wearing the jeans and work-shirt he'd had on at the site. Coming across the threshold, Jake returned his best Up Yours stare, with a certain sense of satisfaction.

It was bad enough that he had to take such flack from Blake. Taking it from the man's servant was just too much.

Without a word, Charles turned and led the way through the first floor until they reached a set of broad oak doors near the back of the house. Having been there before, Jake knew it was the library.

"Wait here a moment," Charles said, in that toneless servant voice he had cultivated and turned away without waiting for an acknowledgment. He knocked softly on the door in front of him before noiselessly sliding into the room. When he returned, he indicated Jake was to be admitted.

Jake stepped inside and heard the doors close firmly behind him.

Blake was seated at a desk formed from a massive piece of black stone that squatted in the middle of the room's hardwood floor like an altar erected to some particularly vile god. He didn't look up or acknowledge Jake's presence in any way. He merely continued to read through the papers held up before him.