Chapter 1.5

Epilogue (10 Years after the conclusion of Part 1)

Now empty nesters, Ken Foley sat at the dinner table as his wife Kris cleared the evening’s dishes when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” he said, rising from his seat with a spring in his step. “I asked the agent for the condo downtown to come by when papers were ready.” The house was too big for them alone now that Sophie had moved to campus, and downsizing to a cute small condo was the next project for the couple. Ken had been unusually active in the search for an acceptable new place.

Opening the door with a grin, Ken’s face quickly dropped, as it wasn’t Denise, the young hardbody real estate agent he had been emptying his seedbags into.

Instead of the petite spinner, a towering, skinny man, dressed in an old black suit and overcoat with a Scally cap on stood there. The man was taller than the door frame. Ken was a good-sized guy, and still pretty fit at age fifty-five, if he did say so. But this guy dwarfed him. There was no vehicle in the driveway behind him. He must’ve walked.

A stray mongrel dog sat attentively beside the man. The dog did not look healthy, as a yellow drool dripped from its panting mouth. And the way the dog looked at him was creepy, as if it was ... hungry?

“Good evening. Mr. Ken Foley?” Ken nodded. “My name is Corax, and this is Grum.” The tall man’s hand shot forward with a business card in hand. Ken took the card, black on the front with white letters, white on the back with black writing.

Corax and Grum

Settling of Accounts

Ken’s eyes could barely focus on the text; reading it made him dizzy. He looked away and tried to blink his eyes. He’d been putting it off, but he was gonna need to go to the optometrist soon. Time and age caught up with every one eventually.

“Are you from the finance company? Agents?” Ken asked, looking back up at the giant.

“Of a sort. May we come in? Our colleague may be joining us, momentarily. We won’t trouble you for long.” Ken eyed Grum, but the dog seemed docile, despite the way it kept staring at Ken.

“Um, sure,” he said, a bit deflated. He was excited for Denise to visit. Her ass was a playground, and she looked so good on the end of his -

“Most appreciated,” Corax ducked, entering the domicile and removing his hat. Grum took two steps in and sat at attention.

“Who is it, hon?” Kris came around the corner, wiping her hands dry. “Is it the agent? Oh!” She stopped short, seeing an enormous man peering down at her, his head cocked askance, like she was a bug he was deciding whether or not to squash. The dog next to him snorted. It looked sickly, she thought.

“Mrs. Kristen Foley, I presume?” The tall man smiled in a most disturbing way. His large yellow teeth crowded that smile and looked as though they were lined up in rows, like an industrial shredder. Or a shark.

Kris nodded.

“My name is Corax, of Corax and Grum,” the voice was odd in a way Ken couldn’t put his finger on, accented but reassuring. Like a warm cup of tea. “We are a one-of-a-kind service specializing in relocations. You were referred to us as a couple in need of an especially customized service.” Both Kris and Ken felt a little more at ease, knowing they merited special service. “We’d like to talk to you a bit about that, if we could?”

Kris was swayed by the honeyed talk, and gestured for the man to come in. “Can the dog stay there?”

Corax looked at her, uncomprehending for a moment, before looking down at Grum and then understanding. He nodded. “Of course.”

“Would your dog need some water?” she asked, a little wary of the way Grum was eyeing her.

“Oh, no. Thank you. Grum has a sensitive stomach and has a special diet.” The smile.

Ken felt he didn’t want to be standing so close to the man, so he showed Corax in and the couple sat on the couch while he sat in the chair facing them. Despite the charm of Corax, both fidgeted nervously.

Corax began, “I am sure you are busy, so I shall be brief. As I said, Corax and Grum are part of an elite agency for relocations. Our work is so elite that our relocations tend to be permanent. We will bring you to your final home. Your referral indicated that you both deserve a unique settlement.”

Ken and Kris brightened at this. It was nice to be so well thought of by friends. “Who referred you to us?” Ken asked.

Corax continued as if not hearing. “Now I need a bit of information from you. It is only you two living here now? No children in the house?”

Kris nodded “Our youngest just left to start her junior year at the state college. All are out of the house. That’s why we want to move.”

“We need to downsize and simplify,” Ken added.

“Yes, of course,” Corax drawled, sounding like a smarmy game show host. “We have been asked to help you there as well. You’ve both had good lives, it seems.”

They nodded. “We like to think so,” Kris said.

“Treated those around you with kindness and compassion.”

They both nodded again, a little more slowly. This was an odd direction to take for a conversation about a real estate relocation.

“Honored and respected those who helped you?” Corax’s face darkened, both in mood and complexion. The color of his skin seemed to darken, along with the serious expression on his face.

Both of them exchanged a quick glance. This was getting uncomfortable.

Corax tilted his head at Kris, focusing on her. “You were married previously, Mrs. Kristen Foley, were you not? You were, at one time, Mrs. Kristen Whalley?” At the door, Grum chuffed, a deep rumbling sound, far too low and powerful to come from an animal that size.

Kris nodded with a squeak, but it was Ken who spoke, standing “What is the meaning of this? My wi-”

Corax snapped his focus to Ken, cutting him off. The toothy grin. “I’m simply gathering the information to do my job, Mr. Ken Foley.” The ring of the doorbell broke the tension. “Ah, that would be our associate. Who happens to be the referrer for you.” Ken was grateful to have an excuse to get away. He moved to answer the door, giving Grum a wide berth.

Ken opened the door, and stepped back, as if pushed.

“Hello, Ken,” Brian Whalley said, looking very fit and stylish in an elegantly tailored black suit. “May I come in?”

Ken just stared, dumbfounded.

“Ken,” Kristen croaked. “Who is it?” Ken was frozen.

It was Corax who broke the silence. “Mr. Ken Foley, I would recommend you welcome your guest.”

Ken nodded, jaw hanging down. “Please. Come in.”

Word of Brian’s passing had filtered back to Ken and Kris ten years ago, but those were different times and both chose not to think about their roles in that. All that was in the past, and better not spoken of.

Brian stepped in and Kris shrieked, covering her mouth with her hands. She did not feel very well at all.

Brian patted Ken on the shoulder. “Ken.” But there was nothing friendly about Brian at the moment. This was a very different Brian. First, he looked to be only about twenty-five. Brian, if alive, should’ve been in his sixties. But it was Brian’s eyes, which seemed to be even more disturbing. Old, dark, knowing eyes. Eyes which had seen things far beyond what even a sixty-year-old man should have. Eyes that flickered and changed. There was a deep and malevolent intelligence in them. The look alone had told Ken that the thing wearing Brian Whalley was very, very dangerous.