Episode 101: Keeper of Ways
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Marlena Locke gazed out the window of the Cessna 195 as it circled over the mountains of western Pennsylvania. Beginning its descent to a small private runway located on the sprawling compound her late stepson Brutus and his wife had established outside Pittsburgh. No one had been able to tell them whether or not Calliope had been notified about her husband's untimely demise, nor had any of the family been able to reach her. Thus it had been decided that this was news best delivered in person, and Heyman, acting in his role as de facto head of the family, had saddled his mother with the task. Marlena hadn't particularly cared for Brutus, let alone his ghostly blonde wife always hovering over her tarot cards and muttering cryptically about their vague but menacing premonitions of doom.
Calliope had always been a bit flighty and given to fits of whimsy, but since the death of their son Nathaniel, the woman seemed barely tethered to this world. She had not involved herself in the family business, nor had she managed to produce another heir for Brutus. Calliope was quite useless in Marlena's estimation, and she never had been able to fathom why Brutus had never packed the woman off to an asylum so he could marry again. With Brutus out of the way, she supposed, that chore would now fall to Haman. She didn't know yet if her stepson had left a will, or if so, whether it had been updated in the years before Nathaniel's death. But his widow certainly couldn't be allowed to inherit. Brutus had held far too great a stake in Lockrail to entrust it to some outsider.
Marlena was certain her son would act in the best interest of the family in this matter, though it would be up to her to steer him in the proper direction. She should have ample opportunity in the coming days to gather all the intelligence they would need to relieve Calliope of the burden of legal agency. After all, Calliope's own mother was long dead. Who better to stand at her side, providing comfort and advice in her time of grief than her own loving mother-in-law? The Cessna glided smoothly toward a long, wide strip of land at the back of the family property, its wheels touching down on the sandy runway with a soft bump. When the small plane came to a stop, the two men from the company's security division who had accompanied her on this excursion de-planed, pausing for a second to scan the area for potential threats.
Then one of the pair, Smith, Smythe, she couldn't be bothered to keep them straight, turned smartly around and offered his hand, assisting her to the ground. The three of them waited in silence while the pilot filled out his logs and completed various systems checks. And waited. And waited. And waited. Marlena glanced down at the elegant mother-of-pearl face of her watch. It had been nearly fifteen minutes. The staff at the yard house, Brutus and Calliope's estate, should have come around with a golf cart to ferry them to the main house as soon as their plane was sighted. She had never waited for more than five minutes at most for someone to bring the cart around. Marlena sighed. It was just like Calliope to allow basic courtesies to fall by the wayside while she wallowed in tears.
Exasperated, she snapped her fingers at the pair of security drones and began the long, slow trudge along the grass in the direction of the house, her high heels sinking in the soft earth. Twenty minutes later, they emerged from the thick copse of trees surrounding a Tudor mansion constructed of pale, gray stone.
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