Ashes of Roses

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Ashes of Roses Page 44

by Melissa R. L. Simonin


  “Plus she’s thrilled the Carlisle fortune is back, and better than before,” I interjected.

  “That’s so great,” Jenny commented, to which we all agreed.

  “I love how all his plans fell apart on him,” Annette declared, to which we also agreed.

  “Lady Carlisle’s anxieties have been greatly reduced,” Miles said. “Not only is their fortune restored, with proof of Delacroix’s wrongdoing, she can and will sue to hold him accountable for the damages he orchestrated. She’d like to keep tabs on him in the meantime, the easier to turn him over to the police, along with the evidence we’ve promised. To that end, she’s content to remain as unruffled as always. She was initially startled by Anika’s reveal, but by the time Delacroix recovered enough to look around, she appeared entirely aloof.”

  “What was everyone else’s reaction?” John asked.

  “There was a lot of confusion,” Miles answered. “Most of those present understood only a tiny fraction of what was said. Delacroix’s animosity had no explanation, and it was his challenge that started it off. Anika finished it, after toying with him to the point he was ready to scream. She clearly got the better of him, but much of the subject matter was new to those listening, and presented in such a way as to resemble a game of cat and mouse. Was she accusing him, taunting him, or both? Did she mean it, or was she weaving fragments of the past week into a story that would leave him thinking twice before attempting to insult us, ever again?”

  “What about the Countess?” Jenny inquired. “Did she react?”

  “Did she?” I wondered. “I didn’t take the time to look at anyone else.”

  “Did you at least see what she was wearing?” Annette asked, and I laughed.

  “Faded, ripped jeans, and an oversized hoodie with ‘sloth running team’ printed on the front,” I reported.

  “While severely underdressed for the occasion, that sounds surprisingly normal, for her,” Jenny decided, but I laughed shortly.

  “She also wore a hat that closely resembled a miniature roller coaster,” I added. “Meaning, it was covered in bright neon lights, had a series of looping tracks, and a row of small cars that circled every few seconds.”

  Xander laughed, and looked intrigued.

  “Are you serious?” he exclaimed. “Because that sounds kind of cool!”

  “Of course I’m serious,” I replied. “Although it’s hard to be, about a hat like that.”

  “Particularly at the sound of ‘whee!’ that came from it, every time the cars went around one of the two loops,” Miles said. “As to her reaction, it was difficult to tell since she wore dark glasses.”

  “And a pair of very worn cowboy boots that had to be four or five sizes too big,” I added.

  “Good grief, you’ve got to start taking pictures,” Xander declared.

  “If it wasn’t for your truth ability, you’d have to, or we’d think you were joking,” John said. “Are you concerned that Delacroix will take off, before he can be charged?”

  “The ferry won’t return until Monday,” Miles answered. “There is the possibility he could leave the island on a private boat. I don’t expect he would disappear successfully if he did, not unless he first had the opportunity to liquidate assets to fund a new life, with a new identity. If he leaves without explanation, he as good as admits his guilt. Lady Carlisle is going about her business as usual, instead of confronting, leaving him to conclude she believes his denial. He has no idea the network we have in place to gather the evidence he unknowingly pointed us to, when he lied and said there was none. He doesn’t know we can easily go from our room at the manor to any point on earth, in less time than it takes to blink. For now at least, he believes he’s safe, and has more to lose by running, than staying put.”

  “So where do you go from here?” Xander asked. “What’s the plan?”

  “Jackson’s sources have been deployed,” Miles replied. “Much of the evidence has already been gathered. It’s amazing how quickly a thing can be found, when you know right where to look.”

  “About as easy as eavesdropping when you’re standing right next to someone,” I said, and Miles laughed. He knew I was referring to when he was semi-transparent, and left a guy very, very sorry he ever had less than honorable intentions toward Miles’ little sister.

  “That too,” Miles smiled. “Delacroix was so certain his plan was foolproof, he was incredibly careless. This is hard to grasp, but he used his personal cellphone to communicate with Harry Price and Earnest Smith, and that’s the number Reginald Abernathy called to demand a meeting with him, shortly before his death. The police already have the phone records of all three men, or soon will. They’ll see the link they have in common, the brief interim between that last call and their deaths, and Delacroix’s location when those calls were placed and received, and they’ll have their prime suspect.”

  “They’re likely to suspect he also killed Harry Price,” I said. “He spoke with him several times that day to arrange the botched theft in our room, and the late-night visit to the greenhouse that resulted in his death. But, Delacroix isn’t responsible for that part, and knows nothing about it.”

  “Then who does?” Annette puzzled.

  “That, we hope to track down tomorrow,” I replied. “We gave Jackson the name Bob Green, that’s the grower Lady Carlisle invited to the manor, with the intent of selling off the rights to Finn’s hybrids.”

  “We discovered that earlier today, when Doreen emailed us the list of growers she compiled,” Miles said. “We recognized him from his photo. What we didn’t know until Anika questioned Delacroix, was that the two had an agreement.”

  “Delacroix was livid when he looked out the window of his room, and saw Bob Green with Lady Carlisle. Delacroix called him later, and said if Bob thought he could go behind his back and cut him out, he could think again. He wasn’t the only grower dying to get his hands on the manor’s roses, and to consider himself lucky if he didn’t find himself cut out. Bob wasn’t expecting that, and said Lady Carlisle contacted him, not the other way around. Delacroix wasn’t appeased, and threatened again to do business with another grower, instead. He then hung up. That’s the last time they spoke.”

  “What we learned from Jackson’s source, was that Bob Green was still on the Isle of Camden when he received that call,” Miles said. “Instead of leaving that afternoon, he stayed the night, though there’s no record of where. He rode the ferry back to the mainland, the following day.”

  “We’ve got one death unaccounted for, and he’s the only other player of whom we’re aware,” I said. “We’d like to know where he was during the hours before he left, and what he did. So we’ll take a trip to the mainland tomorrow morning, and ask.”

  “What about Evie?” Annette asked. “Have you learned anything new?”

  “No,” I replied. “Have you?”

  “No, absolutely nothing,” Jenny said in frustration. “Even though we’ve spent every spare second going through the boxes.”

  “Yes they have, and so have we,” Xander declared, with an exaggerated sigh.

  “How about your mom and sister?” Jenny asked as she patted his arm placatingly, but otherwise ignored his misery.

  “My sister shelved her end of the search to compile the list of growers,” I said. “So, no. As for Mom, she’s apparently been too busy to do any reading.”

  “Really” Annette replied in surprise.

  “That’s what she said in the text she sent,” I grimaced. “I really was not expecting that. I thought she’d be so excited, she’d insist the rest of the family fend for themselves, and spend all her time reading.”

  “There was a snow day,” Jenny considered. “Maybe having your brother and sister home, took up all her time.”

  “Maybe,” I said doubtfully. “So anyway, we’ll have to rely on further broadcasts to tell us why we’re receiving them.”

  “I have a hard time believing it’s for entertainment purposes, only,” Miles s
aid. “Although it is entertaining.”

  “What it’ll be is maddening, if it ends there,” Xander stated.

  Apparently he cared, after all.

  We managed not to laugh. Too hard.

  “Then perhaps you’ll be glad to know we intend to spend the remainder of the night at the manor,” Miles smiled.

  “We’ll come back here for an hour or two, after breakfast,” I informed our friends. “One, if all we do is shower. Two, if any of you are willing to get up super-early Glen Haven time, to find out if there was another broadcast during the night.”

  “Of course we’ll be here!” Annette quickly responded, and John nodded assent.

  “We wouldn’t miss it!” Jenny declared.

  “It’s not like we’ve got anything better to do,” Xander replied, then smiled, as we laughed.

  “Then we’ll meet back here, at three,” Miles said, as he glanced at his watch. “If we leave now, we might get in five hours of sleep before breakfast is delivered at the manor.”

  “Ug! We’ll need at least a week, to make up all the sleep we’ve lost,” I lamented.

  “Then go,” Jenny ordered. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

  We said goodnight, and Trixie ferried us back. In short order, we were settled in for what was left of the night.

  Maybe, just maybe, it would be enough for another glimpse of the past.

  The beauty of the roses that filled the garden around her were lost on Evie Bannerman, as she trod the familiar path to the stables. Her feet were almost as heavy as her heart, which quailed within at the thought of the days and years to come. She glanced up as she passed the sheltered alcove where she and Katharine sat a lifetime ago, or so it now felt, as she assured her friend that despite her nervousness at meeting her groom, she was a willing bride.

  How briefly, that was so. Before the afternoon was ended, she bore witness to her groom as he met the woman he loved, the woman he always loved, in this very place.

  Evie’s stomach turned at the memory, and her heart constricted. The grief, disappointment, and disillusionment she could bear. A future with this man, she could not. How well she knew it, just as she knew the impossibility of changing her course.

  Evie sighed, and plodded on.

  The slow, measured clop of hooves sounded in the distance, as the groomsman led two horses from the barn. She watched as Joseph loosely looped the reins about the post, then ran the curry comb along the mare’s side. The horse waiting there nosed his shoulder, and he smiled.

  “There now, you’ll be havin’ yer turn fair enough,” he assured the impatient animal, then laughed softly at the whinnied complaint that followed. “Sure, an yer spirited enough. Ye’ll no doubt suit the gentleman, but don’t be forgettin’ the lady ridin’ beside.”

  Evie’s forehead creased faintly, as she took in the two saddles waiting nearby. Only one was an aside. Katharine was indeed independent enough to ride astride if it suited her to do so, and perhaps it was not considered scandalous where she was from. But…

  Joseph looked up at the mare’s welcoming whinny, and smiled.

  “Good mornin’, Miss Evie,” he greeted her.

  “Good morning, Joseph,” she replied, but her eyes were filled with concern. “Was it ‘gentleman’, you said?”

  Joseph’s eyebrows rose in surprise, then lowered in confusion.

  “Aye,” he answered, as he noted her riding attire. “‘Twas my understandin’, ‘twas yerself an Mr. Carlisle would be ridin’.”

  “Who gave you to understand?” Evie frowned. “It is the wife of my cousin, with whom I intend to ride.”

  Joseph considered that, then shrugged slightly.

  “There’s naught of which to be alarmed,” he assured her. “I shall see to another mount, for Mrs. Bannerman. That bit slipped the mind o’ the messenger it seems, but that Mr. Carlisle sent orders with intent to ride, was clear.”

  “Of course,” Evie nodded in acknowledgment, but the distress in her eyes was plain to see. Concern now shadowed Joseph’s, as well.

  “What’s troublin’ ye, Evie?” he asked quietly.

  She opened her mouth to speak, then sighed instead. She did not wish to burden her friend, nor was it fitting that she do so.

  “I wish to ride alone with my new cousin,” she admitted truthfully enough. “We have so little time together, each moment is precious.”

  “That’s easy enough managed, then,” the groomsman said lightly, though a shadow of concern remained. “It’ll not take long to have them ready.”

  “Thank you, Joseph,” Evie managed a slight smile.

  There seemed nothing to do but smile back, and set about preparing the three horses as requested. He finished currying the mare, arranged the pad and hoisted the aside saddle on her back, then saw that it was properly cinched in place.

  “Thank you, Joseph,” Evie said again, and the smile she managed this time was more like her own. It was enough to somewhat ease the groomsman’s mind concerning her.

  “‘Tis glad I am, to be of assistance,” Joseph smiled back.

  He returned to the stable to retrieve a suitable mare for Katharine, and Evie moved to her horse’s head. She pet the animal’s soft muzzle, and smiled when the mare gently nosed her palm for a treat.

  “Here now,” Evie chided affectionately, as she reached inside the pocket of her riding coat for a cube of the sugar she kept there for just such an occasion. “It is this you want.”

  The horse nickered cheerfully, then politely retrieved the sugar with her lips, and munched it with contentment.

  Douglas’ mood was unimproved after a restless night devoid of sleep. As he entered the stable yard, he witnessed the smile on Evie’s face as she stood there in riding attire, beside the saddled mare. Impossibly, his foul mood deteriorated further.

  “What in blazes are you doing here?” he demanded sharply.

  The smile instantly left Evie’s face.

  The groomsman heeded the harsh words and equally harsh tone, and hurried his steps. He reached the doorway with the second mare, and gave the man an appraising look as he crossed the distance to stand beside her.

  Evie tilted her chin defiantly.

  “Perhaps the time shall come that I feel compelled to explain myself when called to account,” she replied coolly. “At present, I do not.”

  A dark cloud rolled across Douglas’ face.

  “I do not care to be accompanied,” he snapped.

  “Then yer not likely to be,” Joseph declared firmly, as he looped the reins of the second mare beside the first, and fit the curry comb in his hand. “The young lady has plans that don’t include bein’ spoke to in such a way. If it’s ridin’ ye wish to do yerself, best prepare to wait awhile. There’s another ahead o’ ye.”

  Douglas resented the rebuke, and the flush that crept up his neck in response. Even more, he resented the events that led to his foul mood and fouler behavior, and that his words were deserving of a sterner reprimand than that. He prided himself on being a gentleman, but neither Evie Bannerman nor this hired man would accuse him of such.

  “Very well,” Douglas replied stiffly, then turned on his heel, and walked away.

  Ashamed though he was, he could not bring himself to do better. Perhaps upon their next encounter. As for this, it was past saving, and to attempt to do so would only humiliate him further.

  Joseph grimly watched him go, then registered Evie’s pallor.

  “Tell me that was not yer intended?” he said in concern.

  “If only I could say that he was,” Evie half-laughed, rather than sobbed. The encounter left her shaken.

  “Ye canna’ mean it,” Joseph said in disbelief. “This man is the one on whom yer heart’s been so set?”

  “No,” Evie denied. “Though the letters I received bore his name, not a single word did he pen himself. The man I grew to respect and admire, is nothing more than the cruel invention of the one who wrote on his behalf.”

  The horror of
it all nearly crushed her once more.

  “Whatever for?” Joseph frowned.

  “To hide his love for another, I suppose,” Evie sniffed, and quickly stemmed further tears with her handkerchief.

  “Ye canna’ mean it!” Joseph said in dismay, but another sniff was her only reply. “Evie, the man is a brute to treat ye so. He’s not fit t’ be in yer presence! Yer father must be told. He’d set the fellow straight, an see t’ yer protection, for certain!”

  Evie shook her head again, and swallowed the sob that very badly wanted to escape.

  “Father knows,” she replied in resignation.

  “No,” Joseph’s eyebrows knit. “Sure an yer jokin’. I canna’ fathom yer father treatin’ servants an livestock with greater fairness an consideration.”

  And yet, he did, Evie thought sadly.

  “If he heard the man just now…” Joseph argued, for it seemed he must. “Why, my father’d skin the man who spoke t’ my sister in such a way. He’d run him out o’ town, as would I. He’s in love with another, you say? Surely my ears be playin’ tricks on me!”

  Evie occupied herself with offering the willing mare another lump of sugar.

  “He is, and poorly treated by her, and his own parents, all of whom allowed him to believe her dead,” Evie said in his defense. Though the thought was as sand between her teeth, Douglas was soon to be her husband. She must make the best of this intolerable circumstance, and to that end, she felt compelled to make what excuses she could. “It was only just revealed to him. He is overwhelmed, I am sure.”

  “‘Tis ill-advised to marry, with such cargo in tow,” Joseph said disapprovingly, then sighed. “Pardon me for speakin’ me mind. So long we’ve known one another, an carin’ as I do, I forget myself at times. ‘Tis only yer happiness for which I’m concerned.”

  “Of course,” Evie quickly responded. “It is well I know it. I have burdened you unnecessarily, and I do beg your pardon. I should not have done so.”

  “‘Twasn’t yerself that introduced the subject,” Joseph said with a disapproving glance at the path down which the undeserving bridegroom made his exit.

 

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