Bram Stoker's HANNIBAL

Chapter 50: To Question and Arraign

Chapter 50: To Question and Arraign

"All right, one more, one more," Will relented, falling victim to his dogs' pleading looks and begging eyes. His arm was burning, but he threw the rubber ball again and again until each dog had a chance to retrieve it. "That's it! C'mon." Will called the dogs back off the lawn of Hillingham and to the trough at the water pump behind the cottage. They swarmed it, lapping noisily.

When Will brought them back around the front of the cottage, he was surprised to see someone in a very large hat peering into the front window, presumably to see if Will was home. It was Beverly Katz. "Well howdy there," she greeted with a grin as big as her home state, laughing as the dogs mobbed her, besotted with excited affection. "Hey y'all, did you miss me?"

"They did," Will confirmed, watching with a smile as Bev knelt down and submerged herself in the churning sea of fur and sloppy dog kisses. When she managed to get back to her feet and adjust her hat, Will handed her the rubber ball. "If you really want to make them happy..."

Bev took the slobbery ball willingly enough and lobbed it across the lawn. The dogs trailed behind, a mass of wagging tails.

"Did you come by to see Alana?" Will asked.

"No sir, I came to see you," Bev replied with a sunny smile. "Wanted to make sure you were still feelin' like your old self."

Will wasn't sure what exactly Bev meant by "old self" — he supposed his oldest self was Iliya Albescu, and yes, he'd been feeling more and more like that self each day.

"Still fit and healthy?" Bev gave him a hearty clap on the shoulder that, if he hadn't seen it coming, would have rocked him back on his heels.

Will considered his answer, and found that, yes, he was well. Sleeping deeply, dreaming of Hannibal, his mind sharp, hungry for the kind of stimulation real estate law couldn't provide. He'd been reading and eating voraciously, and his body appreciated the consistent sexual gratification. "I feel good," Will said. "Really good. Better than I have in a long time."

"That's good to hear. I know Alana was in a right state when she got that letter from the nuns sayin' you were in a bad way."

Will nodded, watching the dogs trot around back for another drink. "I'm lucky I ended up at that hospital. They, ah... they took good care of me." And kept my secrets.

"And what's this I hear about you vein' struck with Cupid's arrow?" Bev teased gently as the dogs came back around to the front of the cottage to join them.

Will smiled reflexively at the allusion to Hannibal. "I feel like Saint Sebastian."

Bev punched his shoulder this time, which must have been a Texas sort of endearment. "Good for you! You snatch that count right up. Don't wait too long." Her lively dark eyes took on a gentle hue of sadness. "Don't let him get away."

Will nodded, hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry she didn't accept your proposal, Beverly. For what it's worth, you were my top choice."

"Hey how, no need to wallow," Beverly said, kicking the dirt beneath her boots. "I made a lifelong friend. Two, actually." She grinned at him and Will smiled back. "So, as your friend, Will... I gotta ask — what are you doing messin' around with Scotland Yard again?"

"You must've seen the Tattlecrime article." Will crossed his arms, an indignant gesture.

"I did. So did the rest of London," Beverly said. "I know Miss Lounds does love to sensationalize, but... you visited that crime scene at the Physicians College, didn't you?"

Will nodded.

"Might I ask why?"

"My partners needed my help," Will said.