by Joyce Alec
“You wanted me to believe that there was something between us, is that it?” Nora interrupted, her tears now flowing freely as she spoke. “You let me believe that you might feel something for me, in the same way that I’m feeling something for you, but that’s all just pretense, ain’t it?”
“No!” he exclaimed, swiping the air with his hand. “That’s the reason I didn’t say anything to you, Nora. Because it ain’t the same as Mrs. Allan. Sure, she was a friendly face, and it was good to be able to talk to her—to talk to someone since my father didn’t say much…other than talk about his business. But, I never felt anything for her, not the way I feel about you.”
He had ahold of her arms now, not quite sure when he’d stepped forward and reached for her but saw the confusion and the pain in her eyes as he did so.
“I swear to you, Nora, that’s the truth,” he said, desperate for her to believe him. “Mrs. Allan was a friend, that’s all.”
She shook her head, her eyes dimming. “I’ve been nothing but a fool,” she whispered, her gaze drifting away from him. “I struggled against what I felt, telling myself that there was nothing but pain and suffering in it, and now it seems I’m right. You’ve made use of me in the same way you made use of Mrs. Allan. Just wanting someone to talk to, someone to listen to you so that you can find a little more happiness in your life whilst, all the time, there’s a love growing in my heart that will tie me to you for a long, long while. I’ll be always hoping for more of your company, more of your conversation, praying that perhaps the impossible will happen.” Her voice trailed off into silence, her head hanging low, as Joseph felt his heart slam, hard, against his chest.
“Let me go, Joseph.”
He couldn’t. He knew that if he did, she might turn away from him again; she might step out of the shop and out of his life for good.
“I can’t, Nora,” he whispered, his arms around her waist as he gently pulled her towards him. She didn’t fight him. She didn’t look up at him and demand he do as she asked, but neither did she put her own hands on his chest, letting them hang low by her sides instead.
“I’m sorry,” he continued, putting as much feeling into his words as he could. “I should have told you the truth about Mrs. Allan, but I was afraid you’d think the worst of me. I thought you’d believe that I was just talking to you in the same way I talked to her, when the truth is, I feel more for you than I’ve ever felt for anyone. I’ve not let myself think on my feelings too much, trying to push them away, but I can’t stop them from growing. I’ve told myself that you were meant to marry my father, that you’re the housekeeper, and that I shouldn’t be having any sort of feelings for you, but my heart keeps filling with such a deep affection for you that I can’t deny it any longer.” Leaning down, he rested his forehead against hers whilst she stood like a rag doll in his arms. “My mind’s been so full of thoughts, of worries and questions that I’ve managed to break us apart when we were only just growing close,” he finished hoarsely. “Please don’t tear yourself away from me now.”
There was nothing but silence for a long time. Joseph kept his eyes tightly closed, aware of just how physically close he was to Nora, but feeling the distance growing between them with every second that passed.
“Mrs. Allan was a murderer.”
His whole body stiffened, and he stepped back in shock, releasing her from his grasp.
“It’s true,” she continued, tears gone from her eyes as she looked up at him. “She killed her sister-in-law so that she wouldn’t have to worry about her being a financial burden.”
His breath tore from his lips, as he tried to drag in breath after breath, feeling his chest constrict.
“They found out she’d been poisoned, but by then, Mrs. Allan had made her escape,” Nora continued. “Mr. Arbuckle guesses she was planning to make herself quite comfortable after a few years of pretending to be nothing more than a simple housekeeper. She wanted to make sure she wasn’t found, you see.”
It was as if an ax had been slung at him, piercing him straight through his heart. Mrs. Allan, the woman he’d spent so long talking to, had shared so much of himself with, had killed her sister-in-law?
“Was it you she was talking with, the night your father overheard her?” Nora asked, lifting her eyes to his. “I don’t want to believe it, Joseph, but I need to ask.”
He struggled to take in air.
“No,” she said slowly, as he tried to respond. “No, I can see it wasn’t.”
“I didn’t know about any of this,” Joseph whispered, trying to find his way through what was now a cloud of darkness surrounding him. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about, Nora. What was I talking to Mrs. Allan about that my father overheard?”
She shook her head, her hands now clasped behind her back. “That ain’t for me to explain, Joseph. You should talk to Mr. Arbuckle.”
His world began to spin, making him dizzy, as he leaned heavily against the wall. “Mr. Arbuckle?”
“He’s an investigator,” she replied quietly, moving past him and back towards the door. “Not your relative after all, but a dear friend of your father’s. I’m guessing he’ll tell you everything, if you want to head on back to the house. Tell him that my answer is still ‘no’.”
“Back to the house?” he repeated, his head aching all the more.
Nora said nothing, opening the door to welcome Billy, who threw Joseph a puzzled look as he came inside.
“I’ll be working at the storefront today, Billy,” Nora said, managing a small smile as Billy looked at her. “Might you help me if I go wrong? Joseph’s needed back at the house.”
Billy looked delighted at the prospect of having Nora with him and nodded fervently, offering to take her into the back to explain what was going on. Nora went with him at once, only throwing a quick glance over her shoulder towards Joseph, her eyes holding such a depth of sadness that Joseph could barely take it in.
And then he was left alone, his mind whirring with troubled thoughts.
“Mr. Arbuckle,” he muttered to himself, pressing one hand to the side of his head as though that would help him make sense of it all. “Mr. Arbuckle’s waiting for me.”
Staggering towards the door, he blinked furiously in an attempt to clear his head before making his way up to the house, wondering if he was finally going to be able to get some answers.
One hour later and Joseph felt as though the world had come crashing down around him.
“I’m sorry, but there it is,” Mr. Arbuckle said practically, refilling Joseph’s empty whiskey glass. “It seems Mrs. Allan was the one who killed your father in the same way she poisoned her sister, or as the case was, sister-in-law.”
Struggling to get his breath, Joseph fought off a wave of tears, as well as a deep, agonizing pain that refused to let him go.
“What I want to know,” Mr. Arbuckle continued firmly, “is whether or not you had any part to play in this.”
Joseph sucked in a breath, his eyes wide, as he stared at Mr. Arbuckle, the thought filling him with revulsion.
“You’re asking me if I helped kill my father?” he whispered, unable to get any force behind his words. “No, of course I didn’t!”
Mr. Arbuckle didn’t look convinced. “You were close with Mrs. Allan.”
So this is why Nora asked me about her, Joseph realized, his heart clenching with pain. “We talked a lot, yes, but that’s only because my father wasn’t the kind of man to do much talking,” he replied firmly. “There was never anything more than that.”
There was a short silence, broken only by the sound of Mr. Arbuckle clearing his throat.
“His death meant that you got the business,” he said, accusation lacing his words. “You got all of it. The house, the general store, the business. You’ve often said how your father wasn’t the kind of man who let anyone else in, not even you. That frustrated you, I’m guessing.”
“Yes, it did,” Joseph admitted, anger heating his blood. “B
ut I was hoping and praying that, in a few years, when he gave me more responsibility, he’d finally stop keeping himself all locked away. The one thing I wanted was more time with him, Mr. Arbuckle. There wasn’t any reason for me to try and bring his life to a sudden end.” His voice broke, his anger fading as he dropped his head into his hands for a moment, wondering just how he’d let himself be so easily deceived by Mrs. Allan.
“You didn’t tell Nora the truth about how close you were with Mrs. Allan,” Mr. Arbuckle stated, clearly ignoring Joseph’s struggle to compose himself. “You have to admit, it does look as though you’ve got a good reason to want him gone.”
“No!” Joseph sprang to his feet, one fist slamming down hard on the table. “I did not kill my father! I loved him.”
Mr. Arbuckle didn’t move, looking up at him with a calm, yet calculating expression.
“I loved him,” Joseph said again, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I wanted us to be closer. I wanted to be able to talk to him in the same way I talked to Mrs. Allan, but that never happened. He just liked to shut himself up in his study and work on his business, no matter what time of day it was. We’d eat together, sure, but even then we just talked about the general store or what kinds of things were being ordered.” He shook his head, leaning heavily on the table with both hands. “It was the darkest moment of my life, finding him on that study floor. The doctor said something about him having a weak heart, and that was that. He was buried the next day. It’s only been since Nora came that I’ve found a little spark of life again.” His eyes lifted to Mr. Arbuckle, the truth pouring out of him. “I’ve ruined it with Nora now, too. I’ve tried to tell her what I feel. I’ve tried to explain why I never talked about Mrs. Allan, but I don’t think she believes me.” Groaning, he put one hand over his eyes, sitting back down in his chair. “I’ve had such an affection for her growing in my heart, but I’ve told myself that it ain’t right to have those kinds of feelings for the woman my father was gonna marry. But she became important to me. I was looking forward to coming to talk with her in a way I never experienced with Mrs. Allan. That’s why I didn’t tell her the truth, Mr. Arbuckle. It’s foolish, I know, but that’s the truth; I swear it.”
Mr. Arbuckle sighed, chewing his lip for a moment. “I see. Well, here’s the truth from me. Nora doesn’t believe that you had anything to do with your father’s death. That’s why she asked you to tell me ‘no’. She and I had a long talk this morning, and she’s stood by you, even in the face of the lies you told her about your association with Mrs. Allan. I know it might appear to be a little thing, Joseph, but it hurt her to know that you’d never told her the truth about that.”
“I know,” Joseph whispered, his body so heavy with pain and regret that he didn’t think he’d be able to lift himself from the chair.
“Although I must admit, I was still suspicious of you even with Nora’s defense,” Mr. Arbuckle continued. “But after speaking to you, I’m inclined to agree.” There was a momentary pause, and Mr. Arbuckle’s expression softened. “I can see that this has all come as a great shock.”
Mute, Joseph picked up his whiskey and threw it back in one gulp, letting the fiery liquid run down his throat and send life back into his wooden limbs. Relief flooded him, mingling with his grief. Mr. Arbuckle believed him.
“Careful, now,” Mr. Arbuckle said. “You’re going to need that head of yours to get through the next few days.”
“I don’t understand,” Joseph whispered, running his hand over his eyes. “Why did my father have to look into her past like that? Why couldn’t he have just given her notice and sent her on her way?”
Mr. Arbuckle chuckled, his eyes sad. “You didn’t know your father all that well, did you, Joseph? He was never a man to give up on something. Why do you think his business worked so well? He was always able to pursue something right up until he got it. None of his orders ever fell through, did they? I know he prided himself on that.”
The lump in Joseph’s throat grew all the more. “He was a clever man.”
“As are you,” Mr. Arbuckle replied with a smile. “Give it a couple of days and then see if you can’t work things out with Nora. I’m sure she’ll come around.”
“I don’t know,” Joseph replied heavily. “You didn’t see the look on her face.”
Mr. Arbuckle smiled ruefully. “She’s been through a whole lot, Joseph. It’s not the same kind of pain as yours, but it’s still there.”
A few minutes of silence ticked by, as Joseph’s thoughts grew heavy.
“One thing I don’t understand,” he said quietly, “is why did Mrs. Allan hide that perfume vial in the fireplace? Why not just smash it in the fireplace?”
Mr. Arbuckle shrugged. “To avoid suspicion, I’d guess. She wanted to make sure she got as far away from Crestview as possible. Of course, she could have taken the vial with her and disposed of it somewhere along the way, but I’d suppose that, in her haste, she just put it back to the same place she’d been hiding it for all that time. Although…” He trailed off, his eyebrows furrowing as his sharp eyes meandered across the room. “I do wonder who she was talking to that night. Someone who obviously knew about what she’d done in the past and was willing to help her. Someone–”
“The doctor.”
The answer had come to them both at the same time.
“He’s fairly new,” Joseph continued quickly, his heart beginning to race. “By new, I mean he’s been here for a few years, but no longer than that.”
“When did he arrive?” Mr. Arbuckle asked, linking his fingers together as he rested his elbows on the table. “About the same time as Mrs. Allan?”
Joseph shook his head, trying to remember. “A few months after, I reckon,” he replied, now regretting his third glass of whiskey. “He was the one who said my father had died from a weak heart, and I ain’t got any reason to suppose anything different.”
“And it was a quick burial?”
Nodding, Joseph turned his head away, the memory of that day flooding back to him. “It had to be. The heat, you see. Once the doctor settled things, the funeral took place the day after.”
Mr. Arbuckle nodded slowly, his eyes alight as a small smile spread across his face. “The day after, you say? So even if there were signs that he’d been poisoned, the doctor made sure that no one except him could see them.” He shook his head. “Very clever,” he murmured, getting to his feet. “I’d better get on down there and talk to him before he starts to get all suspicious and takes to his heels as well.” He caught Joseph’s gaze, his eyes a little heavy. “I sure am sorry about all of this, Joseph. I wished I could have told you the truth about what I was doing right from the start, but I couldn’t be certain that you weren’t involved. Peter Shaw was a good friend of mine, and I’m only sorry I wasn’t able to help him sooner. I didn’t ever think that he’d meet his end this way.”
Joseph nodded, standing up and holding out his hand, which Mr. Arbuckle shook firmly. “I want her found, Mr. Arbuckle.”
Mr. Arbuckle chuckled, picking up his hat from the table and jamming it on his head. “You ain’t the only one.”
“I’ll make sure to pay you,” Joseph replied, walking to the front door of his house alongside Mr. Arbuckle. “I know you’ll say you’re doing it for a friend, and I sure appreciate that, but I’ll be paying for your services regardless. You’ve done a fine job so far, and I have no doubt you’ll find Mrs. Allan.”
Mr. Arbuckle hesitated for a moment as they stood at the front door, clearly unwilling to accept any kind of payment from Joseph. However, seeing that he was resolute, he eventually agreed.
“I’ll find her,” he grunted, the smile fading from his face as he looked back at Joseph. “She’ll be brought to justice, I have no doubt. I’ll make sure to give all this information to your sheriff too, just so that he knows what’s been going on the last few days.” He grinned, slapping Joseph hard on the shoulder. “And so that he knows you ain’t got anything to do with it.”
The smallest of smiles caught Joseph’s lips. “Thank you, Mr. Arbuckle.”
“Sure.”
He tipped his hat and stepped outside, his strides long as he made his way across town, directly towards the doctor’s office. Joseph let his breath out slowly, trying to settle himself just a little. He didn’t know what to do, closing the door to his house slowly and feeling the house echo with the sound of it. It was so quiet, so still, but it brought Joseph no peace. The locked door to his father’s study still tore at him, the place where he’d found his father dogging his memory.
Pulling the keys out of his pocket, Joseph opened the door and stepped into the musty room, seeing the drapes pulled back from where Nora had opened the window when they’d been in here only yesterday. Forcing himself to put one foot in front of the other, he made his way to the place where he’d last seen his father sprawled out on the floor, his heart beating painfully in his chest.
Tears flooded his vision as he sank to the floor, his agony and grief ripping through him and sending flurries of pain straight to his heart. He didn’t know how long he’d sat there for; he didn’t know how long he’d cried for, but he held nothing back. It all came out of him like a torrent, carrying him on the crest of a wave.
And then a gentle hand touched his shoulder, and he looked up through a haze of tears to see Nora standing by his side, looking down at him with gentle eyes. He could do nothing but press a kiss to her palm, before bending his head low again, his body torn with sobs.
She sat with him then, her hand rubbing his back as he cried, her presence a soothing comfort as he was swept away on a sea of pain.
Epilogue
Nora wiped the countertop carefully, her ears listening for any sign or sound of Joseph. It had been a week since everything had come out, a week since Mr. Arbuckle had told Joseph the truth about who he was and what he was doing. One long week where she and Joseph had avoided each other’s gaze, not quite sure what to say or do.
