DEADLY HOPE a gripping detective mystery full of twists and turns

by Jack Parker

  "I keep her with me out of obligation and as a reminder that I could share my mother's fate. Her ethics had been compromised beyond repair, which is why I felt it necessary to remove her from my family's business before she ruined it. Berta has never forgiven me for undoing Mother's work and setting it in a different direction with a new purpose."

  She scowled at the memory, creating a crease between her eyes. The effort of explaining her relationship with Berta had sapped the energy from her, deepened the lines on her face, and the exhaustion made her appear much older than she possibly could be. I opened my mouth to apologize but clamped it shut again when she stood abruptly and rounded the desk. She took the map from my hand and leaned it against the desk before extending her own to me.

  "Come. Let us visit with Barb before the day grows too busy for a proper chat." Luci's warmth returned, and I took her outstretched hand. The click of her heels sounded hollow and muted on the aged wood; I liked it. I liked private Luci, her ease when away from prying eyes.

  As she led me through the dim foyer, my thoughts retraced the past ten minutes. Luci spoke so fondly of her former nanny during our first dinner, but now they barely tolerated the other. I wanted to help, but the woman guarded her emotions so closely that I would simply have to wait until she asked for my assistance. Perhaps best to stay detangled as much as possible. I was nothing more than a thief after all, playing the long game. These people meant nothing to me, least of all the emotionally stunted freak with a fixation on a haunted, money pit of a mansion.

  I pushed the thoughts of Luci's harrowed past aside as the excitement of telling Barb of my good fortune built in my chest. She'd be proud of me. During the short drive, I instructed Luci go through the front entrance while I went through the storeroom. Barb hated visitors in her kitchen, but I wasn't a visitor. That woman knew me the moment I was born. She looked after my mom when she was younger, and now she made sure I kept my stupid self alive. I was practically her kid if I was anyone's. She be proud, I reassured myself once more.

  Barb stood at the grill slapping that metal spatula when I burst through the back. The bell on the door signaled Luci's entrance, and I breathed a little easier, knowing she waited for me.

  "Hey Barb!" I chuckled when she whirled with the spatula at the ready for defense.

  "Girl, don't you know not to sneak up on an old woman like that." I grabbed a slice of cucumber from the salad supplies on the cold bar and crunched into it.

  "Don't give me that. You know you're going to outlive all of us." I joked, slipping into the old camaraderie easily. The tension that plagued the diner for the past few weeks dissipated, making me wish that my dad had knocked me around sooner, but it was too late to turn back now. I was committed to Luci's employment, only by word, but my word was the only thing I had left.

  "What do you mean she's been injured? She stepped out of my vehicle only moments ago!" Luci's raised voice and harsh tone filtered into my brain, and I rushed to the dining room.

  Drawn to her angry red silk, I slapped one of the swinging doors outward, nearly smacking Ashley with it, and the dining room hushed when it hit the counter with an echoing thud. Luci's face slowly drained of color as her eyes flashed over my cuts and bruises, desperately searching for any sign of new injury. She stepped around the counter, unaware of the many sets of eyes watching; her shocked and angry blue eyes never left mine. The first time I'd met Luci, I believed her to be weak and broken, but over the last six weeks, I'd come to appreciate her quiet strength, her easy acceptance of my thoughts and opinions without judgment and her fierce temper when provoked. She stopped just out of reach, and the porcelain skin of her face reddened slowly as anger overcame her shock.

  "Ash, it's okay. She knows already. She cleaned me up last night. Luci, I'm fine." I rubbed Ashley's arm. Luci's outburst rattled her as well it should have. My brow furrowed at the anger in her eyes locked onto my hand upon my friend's arm, unsure of its cause or why it had been unleashed on my best friend.

  "Sorry to worry you, Luci." Ashley apologized and leaned into me. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We're used to it, seeing Lauren all banged up. I was just warning you."

  "Used to it?" Luci repeated. Any anger that had faded by my presence reignited threefold, and I swore I felt the heat of it omitting from Luci's body. She shifted, blue dress shirt crinkling above the grey slacks.

  "That bastard did that more than once?" Her deep voice dropped lower, growling and threatening a consequence Ashley didn't deserve. "He put his unworthy hands on her, and you didn't bother to call the cops or take her to hospital? Not even once?" Her British accent slipped through her anger and washed over me like an anesthetic balm.

  Ashley sputtered under the fiery gaze and glanced between me and Luci, frightened. As quickly as Luci snapped at her, she then turned that ire toward the entire dining room and glared. I pulled Ashely more tightly against me, unsure of what exactly was happening. What had set Luci off like this?

  "All of you are accessory to this!" She shouted, extending her long arm in my direction with one thin finger pointed at my face. Her hand trembled, and I shrank behind Ashley to hide most of my bruises. What the hell was she doing?

  "Hey!" Barb barked from behind me, and Luci whirled towards the voice. The wild anger in her eyes made me flinch, but Barb held her ground. The two women stared at each other for what felt like an hour before Barb took a step back and beckoned Luci into the kitchen. A silent conversation had passed between the two women, and Luci accepted Barb's offer with a curt nod. I followed with Ashley tucked in my protective arm and closed the storeroom door against the prying ears of Barb's patrons.

  "I understand that you are pissed off, Ms. Pravitas," Barb started the second the door was closed.

  "I highly suggest you do not continue speaking," Luci commanded, and Barb immediately clamped her mouth shut, something in Luci's eyes and dangerous posture warning her, scaring her if her wide eyes were any indication. "Lauren is no longer your concern," her words left no room for argument, and an icy finger slid up my spine. No one had ever spoken to Barb this way and certainly had never concealed a threat so obviously behind such a simple statement.

  "Lauren?" Barb asked. Her confused and hurt eyes pulled at my heart, but I made my bed and would now lie in it. Or flee from it, as it were, with the help of Luci's healthy bank account.

  If I chose Luci, I completed wall that had separated Barb and me. I owed the woman so much, but as I turned my eyes towards Luci, my heart swelled at the protectively fierce gaze she'd leveled at Barb. No one had ever defended me like this before, not with that level of loyalty, not even Barb herself. Her devotion was odd, considering she'd known me two months and knew virtually nothing about me, but the sincerity of her reaction when she'd seen what my father had done won my heart. I loved Barb, but I needed to feel Luci's protection, her anger at my injustice. Of course, her thick wallet didn't hurt. If I chose Barb, the ugly cycle of my life perpetuated.

  "Barb, I'm sorry." My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. Pulling away from Ashley, I stepped towards the woman whose heart I broke. "This is not how I wanted this to happen today." I glared at Luci pointedly, and she straightened her shirt, rebuked but not shameful. "I've decided to go work for Luci at Carver Manor. Thank you so much for everything you've given me, but it's time…"

  Barb flung her chubby hand in the air in dismissal. I knew that gesture. She'd had enough. She was done. "Don't come crawlin' back to me, girl!" She slammed the door to the storeroom, and I winced. I knew she hadn't meant the words, but they stung nonetheless. Anger universally covered every emotion for people who lived in Carver.

  "Damn it, Lauren." Ashley hissed. "You know next week is the one year anniversary of Mike's accident. Couldn't you just think of someone else? Just this once think of someone other than you?" The harshness of those words slapped me in the face, cutting deeper than any physical blow. Anger surged in my veins and exploded my heart into a frantic rhythm of self-righteous
conviction.

  "Seriously?" I was too shocked to speak for a moment, and then nothing could have stopped the avalanche that had been teetering for years on the edge of my mind. "All I do is think about other people, Ashley! How many times have I picked your drunk ass up from the Lodge? How many times have I held you when you cried? How many years have I sit around in this hellhole waiting for Lilly to come back or for my dad to get sober so I could leave? How many times have I covered Barb's ass when she was drunk and howling at the moon in the cemetery instead of here cooking? This place would have gone under last year if it weren't for me and you. I guess that means nothing now, right. It means nothing because I'm getting out, and you… you're just going to be stuck here the rest of your life with your prick of a husband and his spawn. It's not about me. You're jealous, and that's not my problem."

  My words settled into her mind, and a flash of hot guilt stabbed at my chest when tears sprung to her eyes. I ignored it. I'd given Ashley a chance to leave with me, and she'd chosen her abusive husband. It wasn't my problem anymore. Maybe one day we could fix our relationship, but today was not that day. She wasn't ready to leave him, but I was ready. I wanted change. I wanted freedom. I wanted Luci Pravitas wrapped so tightly around my finger that she begged me to take her money. My days of sacrifice ended in that moment and birthed a new Lauren concerned with one thing only: herself.

  "Let's go, Luci," I practically ordered and jerked open the screen door at the back entrance. It slapped shut behind me and then again, signifying Luic's exit.

  I wavered on the top step as the reality of what had just happened crashed my adrenaline high, and Luci slipped her arm around my waist, steadying me. I let her. I needed her to hold me close, keep me moving forward before I bolted into the kitchen and begged for Ashley's forgiveness. The intimacy of her touch startled and scared me, but I was powerless to ask for release, not when my legs shook so violently from spent adrenaline and shock. Until Luci's outburst in the diner, I hadn't realized how painfully Barb and Ashley had failed me in some way. I'd been a victim, and they only helped my abuser by minding their own business as folks often did. Concealed it, pretended it hadn't happened, threw themselves at work.

  I decided then to no longer be a victim; under Luci's gentle guidance, I'd truly take control and find my strength. "Thank you," I murmured breathily when she slipped into the driver's seat beside me. "That's needed to happen for years."

  "Of course, Darling." The anger slipped easily from her clear blue eyes.

  Her hands trembled with spent adrenaline and perhaps concern as she brushed my black bangs from the cut on my head. It slipped down my face, and one gentle finger traced the bruises around my neck. My hazy vision cleared beneath her ministrations. Every second she felt compelled to offer comfort brought me closer to my ultimate goal. Luci was mine, and soon I'd be free.

  "I apologize for my outburst. When Ashley told me that you'd been injured, I thought something had happened in the few minutes we were parted." She cupped my bruised cheek in her warm hand and rubbed her thumb beside my eye. "You mentioned that your father had done this before, but I hadn't realized Barb and Ashley were aware and had done nothing. Please forgive me for my attack against them. I know they mean a great deal to you." She was incredible. Guilt scraped at my heart, and I shoved its sharp nails against a grinder.

  "Nothing to forgive." I smiled and covered her hand with mine, played the victim. "You're so calm now."

  Her face softened dramatically, pity or compassion filling her eyes. "I am not angry with you, Lauren, and to continue to express my anger now that there is no one here to direct it towards properly would only do you more harm. I imagine you would not want to be alone with an irrationally enraged person at the moment." Her calm and steady blue silk voice slithered into my chest, warming it, but in her eyes, the angry fire from earlier reignited. Her control of the anger amazed me. How could something so obviously visible in her eyes leave no trace in her voice or body, save her eyes?

  Before I considered my actions, I pulled her hand to my mouth and kissed her palm. Beautiful blue eyes flickered briefly to her hand and then returned my gaze as a smile spread on her lips. The intimate gesture didn't unnerve me the way I thought it should, and I realized then my own ability to seduce Luci if needed. The warmth of her hands surrounded mine and climbed my arm, spreading slowly throughout my whole body. I breathed through my mouth, controlling the air as best I could. If I wanted, she'd fall in love with me.

  "Let's go home," I said.

  Luci smiled shyly and started the car.

  CHAPTER 8

  The rest of the morning, I wandered through the vast mansion, discovering every hidden nook, unlocking its secrets. I was supposed to be finding a suitable bedroom, but Luci informed me the moment we arrived at the mansion that she'd be holed away in her office to talk David through the meeting with the security company until this afternoon, so I figured a few hours wasted rambling the mansion wouldn't hurt anything. Thus far, I had stumbled upon one hidden passage in the closet of the Great Hall that led to the kitchen and access to the bell tower through what now was a storage room but probably had been a bedroom or library originally on the first floor. The winding wooden stairs seemed to climb on forever, and I puffed vigorously by the time I reached the top only to be met with a metal ladder perpendicular to the floor as my last obstacle. The reward merited the challenge when I finally stood on the creaky floor of the tower. The uncovered windows offered an unobstructed view of the town beyond the tree line from one side and a unique portrait of the thick miles-long tree canopy from the other. Had the mountains not surrounded us, I dared to venture that I could have seen the smoke rising from the factories of Ellie Hill forty miles away.

  I lost track of time atop the tower, and only reluctantly returned to the ground floor of the mansion when my grumbling belly protested the lack of food to digest. I deciphered the route back to the kitchen without the aid of the secret tunnel and pulled a sandwich from the lunch container Berta had prepared. Turkey on wheat. I grumbled and added an obscene amount of mayonnaise to what could have been a healthy lunch, feeling a slight satisfaction at ruining the woman's carefully planned menu. The grumpy old cook was nowhere to be found, and I breathed a sigh of relief and hopped onto the stainless steel counter to finish eating my sandwich and study the kitchen.

  Everything looked new save an old gas stove. It nestled between a brand new gas range and a healthy width of stainless steel counter. It was spacious, bigger than the kitchen at Barb's. Every appliance shone beneath the newly installed fluorescent lights that provided optimal illumination. A huge vent fan hung above the two stoves and ovens, industrial sized and far larger than the space required. Beside a dishwasher, three deep sinks hung on the left wall, directly across from the giant refrigerator. A generous island broke up the wide space in the middle of the floor. Enough cabinets to hold supplies for the entire town for a week lines the walls above and beneath the countertops. Tiny blue, black, and silver tiles arranged in no specific pattern covered the walls, stretching from the edge of the counter to the bottom of the dark, mahogany-stained cabinets. A faint whiff of wood finish lingered, testifying to the lack of use the space had received since Luci's remodel.

  The woman never prepared her own food, except maybe sandwiches, but with her bank accounts, she certainly felt no pain by eating out for every meal or the drive to the city every day. I spared a thought to how much input the cook actually contributed to the furnishing of her new kitchen. If their earlier interaction indicated anything, Luci probably hadn't bothered asking the sullen old house cook. That woman made me nervous with only the memory of her stern features and belligerent acceptance of my presence in the house. Luci had a history with the cook, though, so she probably wasn't as bad as I thought, but I hadn't the energy or the mental power to deal with her glares at the moment.

  "Oh, there you are, Darling." I choked on sandwich when Luci's voice startled the silence of the beautiful kitchen. I
pointed towards my mouth and then chewed quickly.

  "Have you chosen a room?" Luci's silky voice dragged slightly, like she'd been exhausted by David's phone call and her dealings with the security company. I swallowed once I felt certain I wouldn't choke again.

  "Not yet. I can't decide." She hummed and pulled a sandwich from the refrigerator. The simple finger food looked odd in her hand and even odder when she bit into it with fervor.

  "How come?" She spoke around the food, and I cocked my head to one side in delighted surprise at her bad manners. I knew no one could be laced up so tightly every second of the day.

  "I don't know. Want to help me?"

  She turned, beckoning me with one finger, and led me towards the staircase in the great hall. Her sandwich disappeared before we reached the first step, and she brushed away the crumbs and dusted her hands as we climbed the stairs. She directed me towards the last room on the left side of the corridor, three rooms away from hers.

  "I think this room would fit you wonderfully," she announced and held her hand on the doorknob to study my reaction to opinion. My head cocked to one side at her confidence. She'd lived here for several months, but surely she couldn't have memorized all of the rooms in that time, especially if she had not been sleeping or working in them consistently. She met my skepticism with her half-smile and opened the door.

  The room was magnificent, one of the few rooms that didn't contain some creepy Gothic carving or musty portrait. The Mahogany posts of the giant bed nearly reached the ceiling, which displayed gilded images of what appeared to be Greek myths. The small fireplace on the right wall glinted under the midmorning sun filtering through the windows. The wood seemed lighter than the rest of the house, Curly Maple maybe. I sat Indian style on the floor and leaned back on my hands, studying the images on the ceiling.