by Blythe Baker
“You’re quite welcome,” he said, smiling back. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hands, staring up at my cottage, which was the color of honey in the evening light. “Helen, now that things seem to have calmed down around here, I…well, I’ve been wondering about something.”
Something in the change of his tone caught my attention. I looked up at him, my heart skipping a few beats. What was he getting at?
“…Yes?” I asked, my palms beginning to sweat.
“I certainly do not wish to be presumptuous, or to come on too strong, but…I was wondering if you might be interested in a meal together…sometime?”
I stared up at him, my mouth going dry. He wanted to go out somewhere together?
“Of course, it doesn’t need to be anything fancy,” he said. “I just thought it might be nice if we were to spend time together outside of a crime scene. I think we get along together quite well.”
I licked my lips. I would have been lying if I told myself this was completely unexpected. It certainly wasn’t, not after his request to take me to lunch which ended up being nothing more than a means to discuss a case. I’d prepared myself as if it was a romantic occasion, however, and part of me had hoped it would be.
But then Roger reappeared, and all thoughts of any romantic feelings I might have had for Sam were thrown clear out the window. How could I think of another man when the one I’d given my heart to, my promise of my life to, was still alive?
“I think we get along together well, too, Sam,” I said. “And I – ”
“Helen, there you are!”
Sam and I turned to see Irene Driscoll walking down the street toward me, Michael following along right after her.
“Irene,” I said, somewhat grateful, and yet simultaneously annoyed at her timing. “Is everything all right?”
“Well, yes,” she said. “I’ve been looking for you for the past hour. I telephoned your house, no one answered, and then I thought you might be at the grocer’s, since you said you needed to go this evening and get a few things. You weren’t there, either.”
She stopped on the other side of the fence, and when she realized who it was I was standing with, her brow furrowed.
“Oh, please…don’t tell me there’s been another crime– ”
“No, not at all,” Sam said, smiling at Irene. He then looked over at me, and set my groceries down at my feet. “Just…think about what I said, all right? Feel free to call me whenever you’ve made up your mind. You ladies have a good night.”
And with that, he deftly stepped out of the gate, and started back up the road toward the center of town.
Irene arched her brow, giving me a pointed look. “What was he doing here?” she asked.
I watched him go, my heart in my throat. “You won’t believe this, but he asked me if I wanted to go to dinner with him sometime. I didn’t give him an answer.”
Irene’s face paled. “That was my fault, wasn’t it?”
“No, it’s all right,” I said. “To be honest, I wasn’t really sure how to even answer him.”
“I thought things were going so well between you two,” she said. “It’s been clear he has feelings for you for some time now.”
“Yes, I know…” I said.
“And?” Irene asked. “How do you feel about him?”
Not for the first time, I thought about telling her about Roger still being alive. How could I explain any of it, though, without giving away more than I was allowed to?
“I…just don’t know,” I said. “I didn’t think I would ever have to love anyone else. The idea of it is just…”
“Too much, and perhaps too soon,” Irene said, laying a hand on my shoulder. “That’s quite all right, dear. You should only ever accept if you feel it is the right time. But who knows? Maybe you would enjoy having dinner with him.” Her lips curled into a mischievous smile.
I smirked at her. “Not biased at all, are you?”
“I only want what’s best for you, my dear,” she said, her smile warm and gentle.
“I’m sorry, what is it that you needed?” I asked. “Here we are, talking about me…”
“Oh, of course,” Irene said. “Nathanial and I decided to throw a little impromptu get together this evening for his brother who has come in from out of town. We were wondering if you would like to join us.”
“Oh, I’d love to,” I said. “That would be the perfect way to get all this stuff with Sam off my mind…”
2
The get together at the Driscoll’s ended up being a great deal more fun than I had anticipated it would be. After sending Michael over to Irene’s parents’ house for the night, we spent the evening playing board games, eating Irene’s delicious treats, and enjoying good conversations with great company.
Nathanial’s brother, Ralph, was quite the comedian. He had a terribly dry sense of humor, but seemed all too happy to make sure people laughed and had a good time. When Irene asked why he hadn’t yet found anyone, Ralph threw back his head and laughed. “Do you really think anyone would be able to handle me, dear sister? I would drive the poor woman batty before the end of our first week of marriage.”
His eyes, the same shade of blue as his brother’s, turned to me.
“And why is your friend here also alone?” Ralph asked. “Someone as lovely as she is must surely be the sort of woman that all men dream about.”
I blushed.
“Actually, she may not be alone for very long,” Irene said, winking at me.
“What do you mean by that?” Nathanial asked, sitting up straighter in his chair.
Irene’s smirk grew. “The good Inspector has asked Irene out for dinner with him.”
Nathanial’s jaw dropped.
“Well, it seems I was just too late, then,” Ralph said with a wink at me. “Better luck next time, I suppose.”
“That is, if I choose to accept,” I said.
“He’s a good man, Helen,” Nathanial said, nodding firmly. “He would take care of you, no doubt about that.”
“He certainly would,” Irene said. “I think he’d be frightened to let you out of his sight for even a minute. Not that I blame him, of course. You do tend to get yourself into trouble every time you turn around.”
“Trouble?” Ralph asked. “How very interesting. What sort of trouble?”
“Not the sort of trouble that you need to know anything about,” Nathanial said, laughing. “Come on, Ralph. Let’s go check on those chops.”
I appreciated their concern for me, and knew that if Roger had never revealed himself, I certainly would have considered their opinions more seriously on the matter. Irene must have certainly been confused that I wasn’t enticed by the idea as much as I might have been before, but she still didn’t know the truth…
I knew eventually she would ask me why I wasn’t willing to accept Sam’s offer. And how could I lie to Irene? She would be able to see right through me. And I felt horribly guilty about it all.
I would have to worry about that when the time came.
Nathanial and Irene walked me back home that night, well after ten o’clock. The moon was bright and full, the stars peppered across the sky like flecks of diamonds scattered across the velvety expanse.
“You know, I think Sam would be a good match for you,” Nathanial said. “I really do. If I were you, I would seriously consider it. He’s a reliable fellow. Not like that Sidney Mason…”
“He is reliable,” I said. “I know he is. And he and I are quite good friends by now. He would certainly try to make me very happy. I suppose I wish I had met him under different circumstances, is all.”
Nathanial opened his mouth to say more, but Irene laid a hand on his arm. “She only just lost her husband this past March, dear. That is not something one should rush to get over so quickly.”
Nathanial’s face became sheepish. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Helen. I didn’t mean to push you.”
“It’s all right,” I said, smiling at him. �
�I appreciate how much you both care about me. You really have been so wonderful to me since I moved here…I don’t know what I would do without you both.”
After a somewhat weepy goodbye, I settled into my house, appreciating it for all its coziness and security, and was fast asleep before I saw midnight on the clock on my side table.
The next morning seemed to come as soon as I closed my eyes. The next thing I knew, the sunlight was streaming in through the window above my bed.
I sat up slowly, stretching my arms up over my head, inhaling the cool, morning air.
I glanced over at the clock. Just after six. Perfect. I had enough time to get ready before the shop opened.
I took a leisurely shower, enjoying the warmth of the water on my shoulders, which were somewhat sore from the tension of my conversation with Sam the night before. Thinking about it once again, I found the guilt returning as I feared telling him that I was not interested in pursuing a personal relationship any further with him. Would it hurt him? Would he be angry with me?
And then what if Roger ever came back, revealing himself perhaps as someone else? What if we had to keep up a rouse for others to see?
All in all, I didn’t want to hurt Sam’s feelings. I wanted to remain friends with him, without any uncomfortable distance being created between us.
He was a strong man, and he did tell me it was my decision. I had to believe he was mature enough to accept my answer, even if it was the one he wouldn’t want to hear.
More than anything, I worried what Roger might think if he were to discover I had gone out with another man, especially now knowing he was still alive. Before I had known, it might have made sense.
It made me wonder how much it might have hurt him to see me leave the house that day, all dressed up and done up? Did he know where I was headed?
I wondered if he’d followed me, curious about where I was going. I wondered if he’d been shocked to see me meeting a man, and only a man, at the inn where Sam and I enjoyed lunch together.
I knew it would have broken my heart to see him with another woman somewhere, even if he had no idea I was still alive…
No, I was going to have to let Sam know that I couldn’t step out with him…not as anything more than just friends.
I dried my hair and brushed it through, like I did every morning. I ran some hair oil that Irene swore by through my hair, enjoying the pleasant, flowery smell that it gave off, feeling as if I was using something rather expensive and luxurious.
Lipstick, mascara, and the lightest touch of blush across my cheekbones…and I was ready for the day.
I wandered to my kitchen, prepared myself some tea and a light breakfast of a hardboiled egg with a slice of bread I’d baked the morning before, slathered in a delicious cheese from the party at Irene’s the other night.
The shop itself was still and quiet as I prepared for the day, though I felt it needed something. Perhaps some of the flowers growing out in my back garden, the last that would likely bloom before the spring?
I picked a dozen or so mums in brightest red, carrying them inside as I hummed softly to myself. I filled a pale blue, milk glass jar that had once belonged to my aunt with cold water from the tap in the washroom downstairs, and set the mums inside, admiring their beauty and delicate scent.
I set them down beside the till, smiling at them. Perhaps they would brighten someone’s day the same way they had brightened mine.
The shop opened a short while later. Mrs. Georgianna, a frequent and loyal customer, appeared shortly after I’d flipped the sign on the front door. “Oh, dear, I’m just terribly eager to see these new threads you have,” she said. “Spun silk? How wonderful.”
I led her to the cabinet I’d chosen for the threads, the many small drawers previously being used for extra ribbons and buttons I’d accumulated that had no pairs or home.
“And what lovely flowers,” Mrs. Georgianna said, gazing at the bright red pop of color near the back of the shop. “I just love mums. A wonderful reflection of autumn, aren’t they?”
“They certainly are,” I said. “I couldn’t resist bringing some cheer into the shop today.”
“Oh, how very wise of you,” Mrs. Georgianna said. “I’m certain there will be many who will appreciate it.”
I smiled at her as I made my way back over to the wooden box of glass jars where I kept the more expensive glass beads, all organized by color and size. I’d noticed a few of the reds had been mixed in with the greens, and so set about reorganizing them for the next guests who might want them.
I adjusted the box as Mrs. Georgianna happily looked through the new stock of threads I’d purchased, and the sound of the bell at the door made me look up.
Mrs. Trent and Mrs. Henrietta strolled inside, their heads bent low, both speaking in low voices.
“Good morning, ladies,” I said, making my way over to them. “Is there anything I can help you find?”
Mrs. Trent looked up at me. “Oh, yes, well, I was wondering if I could place an order for a dress of mine to be hemmed and resized.”
“Of course,” I said. “Just come back here and I’ll take your measurements.”
The two women followed me back to a corner where a three-paneled mirror stood behind a low dais. I picked up a measuring tape from the wall as Mrs. Trent stepped up onto it.
“Now, it’s a red dress,” she said. “And it is just far too short for me to be comfortable. I don’t know what I did to it, trying to take it in.”
“That’s no trouble at all,” I said. “I might even be able to match the fabric if I see it.”
“Very good,” Mrs. Trent said, frowning at her own reflection.
I caught a glimpse of Mrs. Henrietta in the mirror, as she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. While I knelt down beside Mrs. Trent to take the measurements from her hip to her ankle, I looked over at the real Mrs. Henrietta. “Is everything all right, Mrs. Henrietta?”
“Oh, I suppose I’ll be all right,” she said, sniffling. “Though it’s quite hard to believe what happened, isn’t it? Especially after running into him last night the way we did.”
A knot began to form in my chest, and somewhere deep down inside, something suddenly felt…wrong. “Quite hard to believe that what happened, exactly?” I asked, jotting down Mrs. Trent’s measurements onto a pad of paper.
Mrs. Henrietta looked over at Mrs. Trent, whose eyes widened. “You…didn’t hear?” she asked.
It was as if I’d swallowed a rock. “Didn’t hear what?” I asked.
“It was in the papers this morning,” she said. “Front page and everything…”
“What was?” I asked, getting to my feet, my heart beginning to thunder loudly in my ears, the fear already beginning to snake its way through my arms and legs, making my knees weak.
“Inspector Graves, my dear,” Mrs. Henrietta said tearfully. “He died last night.”
The measuring tape fell from between my fingers, bouncing off the floor before coiling into a knotted mess beneath a chair behind me. “He…he what?” I asked, breathless.
“It happened sometime last night,” Mrs. Trent said. “In the alleyway behind Mr. Hodgins’ butcher shop.”
My head pounded. This couldn’t be true. It just…it couldn’t be.
I collapsed in the chair behind me, my insides filling with icy numbness.
“How…I don’t understand,” I said, feeling as if something large and heavy was compressing my chest. “He – I just saw him, last night. He was here, at my house, and I – ”
“I know, dear, I know,” Mrs. Henrietta said, coming over to me and laying a hand on my shoulder. “It’s all right. Just take deep breaths. You cannot allow yourself to panic.”
My mind raced. It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t have died. Not when I had seen him only twelve hours ago. Or was it fourteen now?
“Lydia, be a dear and go get some cold water,” Mrs. Henrietta said, kneeling down beside me. “There, now, dear, come now and try to remember
to breathe.”
I couldn’t think of anything except Sam.
A moment or two later, a cold glass was pressed into my hand, and Mrs. Henrietta was doing her best to encourage me to drink it. I wanted nothing to do with it, of course. “Bring me the paper,” I said. “Out on the front step. Please.”
“She’s in too much distress right now,” Mrs. Henrietta said. “She needs rest, and perhaps to see a doctor – ”
“No!” I said. “Bring me the paper. Please.”
Mrs. Trent gave Mrs. Henrietta a troubled look before rising to feet and heading back toward the door.
“Good heavens, is everything all right?”
It was Mrs. Georgianna, only just now catching onto what was happening at the back of the store.
“Yes, I believe so,” Mrs. Henrietta said. “I think she’s just a little shaken about the news of Inspector Graves’ death.”
Mrs. Georgianna suppressed a shiver. “Oh, most troubling indeed. I don’t even understand how it happened. How could someone have managed to kill him, as trained and as skilled as he was?”
“Killed him?” I asked, another surge of paralyzing fear shooting through my veins. “He was killed?”
“Yes, dear, rather brutally too, from what the paper said,” Mrs. Georgianna said, shaking her head. “Stabbed to death, or some such terrible thing – ”
The breath itself seemed to be stolen right from my lungs. I grasped at my chest, unable to draw a full breath.
“Mrs. Georgianna, if you would be so kind as to call for a doctor,” Mrs. Henrietta said, rather forcefully. “That would be much appreciated.”
Mrs. Georgianna hurried away to find a phone and do just that.
Sam Graves…murdered? How could it even happen? Who would dare to do such a terrible thing?
“A doctor is on his way,” Mrs. Georgianna said a few minutes later, returning to my side. “Can I do anything else?”
“Perhaps give the poor girl some space,” Mrs. Henrietta said.
Mrs. Trent appeared as well, the newspaper rolled up in her hands. She gave me a very serious look, which I was only partially aware of. “Are you certain you want to read this? I know how close the two of you were…”
