The Ashford Place

by Jean Copeland

  Why hadn’t Ally contacted her? She understood her needing a day or two to process everything, but she was beginning to feel like she’d become her adversary rather than her confidante. Was Ally not as into her as she’d made her believe, and this was how Belle was going to find out? By being ghosted?

  If that was how she wanted to play it…

  She shifted in her chair and accidentally kicked Red, who was sprawled on the cool hardwood floor under the table.

  “Ooh, sorry, pal.” She ran her bare foot over his chest and tummy, then looked under the table at him. “At least I can count on one creature I love to side with me. If I have to blow this taco stand for good, will you hightail it out with me?”

  He returned his head to the floor with a lazy groan.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  By early afternoon, she could endure no more of her work-related exile. Her eyes ached, and her stomach kept making sounds like she was about to birth an alien, so she hopped on her bike and rode into town for lunch.

  After she’d stuffed herself in at Ethel’s lunch counter between the wall and some guys from Public Works, she propped the menu up in front of her face and scanned the café from corner to corner for Ally. When the sweep turned up empty, she parked her eyes on the door. If Ally was at the station, she was bound to show up near or around that time to pick up the lunch order.

  Unless…now that she was sheriff, she sent Camiotti out on food runs. Crap.

  Ethel would know. She lowered her menu enough to attract Ethel’s attention through the clamor of the lunch rush. She finally came over to her with silverware rolled in a napkin and a paper placemat covered with ads for every Danville business and a huge congratulatory ad for Sheriff Ally, featuring her mug right smack in the center.

  Belle covered it with her water glass and watched the condensation spread over it.

  “Hey, stranger,” Ethel said with a bright smile. “Thought you’d finished up the house and vamoosed.”

  “You’re half right. The renovations are nearly complete, but I’m still on the fence about vamoosing.”

  Ethel cupped her ear. “You’re putting up a fence?”

  Belle giggled and raised her voice. “No. I haven’t made any plans to leave yet.”

  “Oh, oh, I see. How’s Ally doing?”

  “Fine, I guess,” she said with a begrudging jerk of her shoulder. “Did she pick up her lunch order yet?”

  “No,” Ethel said, obviously perplexed. “She’s not working today. Didn’t you hear? Bob passed yesterday.”

  Belle’s stomach soured before she even placed her food order. He’d died, and Ally couldn’t even trouble herself to call her. It was apparent now how little she’d meant to Ally, how dumb she’d been for allowing herself to fall so hard and so fast for the Baroness of Baggage. The former player had been played.

  The warning signs had to have rained down like a meteor shower, but she’d simply refused to see them.

  Again.

  “Jeez. I’m terribly sorry. I know how everyone here feels about him.” Belle realized as she spoke she sounded more bored than bereft. “Can I take my order to go? I want to check in with Ally and see how she’s doing,” she lied.

  “Tell her I was asking for her,” Ethel said when she returned a few minutes later with a wrapped sandwich.

  Belle nodded, then stood outside the café, frozen in the swelter of mid-August heat like a small girl lost among big strangers.

  Bob’s straw sat pristine, its Baggie tucked inside her draw-string knapsack. A weightless piece of beach litter to the unknowing eye, it likely contained the answer she and Ally had searched for together all summer. It represented closure—maybe for more than one thing.

  Was her love affair with Ally only meant to be fleeting? Summer passion ignited by the mystery of the Ashford place? And now that the mystery was about to be resolved, so would their connection?

  When her eyes started pooling, she paced the sidewalk between Ethel’s and the sheriff’s station, clutching the sandwich in one hand and the knapsack in the other. She loved Ally with all her heart and soul; that she knew for sure. For her, it hadn’t been an interlude that spiced up a summer of home renovations and self-imposed exile. She’d thought she was starting the second half of her life on a positive note, with a woman who’d not only ignited passion and desire in her body and soul but also warmed her heart with a stability and contentment always lacking with other women.

  She wanted the investigation to be over, but not her relationship with Ally.

  Now Bob was dead. He’d never be confronted or held accountable, never tried and never convicted for what he’d done, to Charlene or anyone else—not in this lifetime.

  What message would it convey to Ally if she gave her the straw she’d swiped without her knowledge? What if Ally took it from her but, instead of following through with the analysis, destroyed it to protect Shirley and his immaculate public legacy?

  The situation was untenable. In either scenario, one of them would end up hopelessly disillusioned.

  She exhaled and rested against the bicycle rack outside the sheriff’s office, watching a crow pick at the remains of some type of roadkill.

  “Isabelle?”

  She turned to see Gallagher holding the door open.

  “Are you looking for Ally? She’s with Shirley now.”

  “Yeah,” she said and looked down at the sandwich. “Actually, I stopped by to bring you lunch.”

  “Oh. Really? Thanks.” He looked puzzled as he held the door for her, and she breezed past him into the office.

  “Hope you like chicken cutlets.”

  “I love ’em. Have a seat.”

  She sat in the chair next to the desk Ally normally occupied.

  “Can I get you a water or something?”

  “No, thanks.” She looked around Ally’s surroundings, absent of her, and felt herself seeping into the fabric of the chair.

  “Chicken cutlet, notwithstanding, I’m glad you stopped by.” He bit into the sandwich before finishing his thought.

  “It’s comforting to know someone in law enforcement is happy to see me these days.”

  He arched an eyebrow, then, “Yeah, uh, we’re going ahead with the exhumation Thursday. If they can extract a viable sample, we’ll know by the end of next week. The lab’s gonna fast-track it for us.”

  “That’s great.” She choked back emotion.

  “I know this must be tough for you,” he said as he chewed, a dollop of mayo lingering in the corner of his mouth.

  “It’ll be a relief for me and my family.” She offered a wan smile of gratitude as she watched him pinch his fingers together to pick up and eat shredded lettuce strands that had fallen onto the paper wrapping.

  “Are you okay?” He asked in that I care about you, but I’m scared you’re going to emotionally unload on me way.

  She shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind if this summer had a restart button.”

  “It’s probably none of my business, but shouldn’t you be with Ally now?”

  “Things have gotten a little complicated between us. She hasn’t told you anything?”

  He shook his head. “You didn’t have to be a detective to sense the tension between you two the last time you were here, but she hasn’t mentioned anything. She’s been really preoccupied with Bob and Shirley the last few days.”

  “She hasn’t said anything to you about Bob regarding the case?”

  “Which one? Yours?”

  Gallagher’s genuine confusion was a full-on gut punch. Ally hadn’t even told him what Charlene had said. They were partners on the case. Surely he should’ve been kept in the loop concerning all the details, not just the ones she thought relevant.

  Belle’s worst fear about Ally’s moral rectitude was being justified, and her rage at the multi-level betrayal it represented impelled her to take matters into her own hands. “I need your help,” she said. “But I also need you to make me a promise.”

 
“I’ll do my best, but it depends on the promise.”

  “I knew you’d say that.”

  “Obviously, I’m not going to promise to do anything illegal or unethical. You know that.”

  She tightened her lips in indignation. “Detective Gallagher, I’m surprised at you. I’d never ask you to do anything illegal. I’m not stupid.” She leaned toward him and lowered her voice. “The ethical part is where it gets a little murky—but only because another member of your team may or may not be dancing on that line herself.”

  “Ally? You have to be mistaken, Belle. There’s no way—”

  “Just listen to me for a second. A few days ago I shared some new, pertinent information with her that she should’ve given you.”

  “Tell me what it is, and I’ll discuss it with her.”

  “It involves Bob, and I’m concerned that right now, given her grief over his passing, her judgment may be a little off.”

  He popped the last piece of the first half of the sandwich into his mouth and smiled with reassurance as he chewed. “I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s going on.”

  “Will you promise me you’ll handle it on your own and won’t involve her unless the test comes back positive?”

  “What test?”

  “Promise me, Gallagher,” she shouted, startling them both.

  “Okay, okay, I promise.” He scratched at his goatee in apparent frustration. “I can do that,” he said, as though bargaining with himself. “I can call you a confidential informant. There’s nothing unethical about that. It’s not like I’ll keep Ally in the dark forever. Sooner or later it all comes out in the wash…”

  “Bob was a child molester, and I’m positive he’s the father of my cousin’s baby.”

  “Holy fuck.” Gallagher finally refocused his attention on her. “You gotta be shitting me. How do you know this and nobody else does?”

  “I found one of his victims—accidentally. My cousin’s childhood best friend.”

  “Would she make an official statement?”

  “She lives in California now, but yes. She said she would.”

  “Give me her number then. I’ll call her right away, get her back here.” He picked up the other half of the sandwich and went for it.

  “Can’t you run his DNA first and confirm it’s a match before you make her fly all the way across the country?”

  The cutlet slid out the bottom of the bread and landed on the paper. “You have DNA? Why didn’t you tell me that first?”

  She fished through her knapsack to retrieve the straw. “What did you think I meant when I mentioned a test coming back positive?”

  “To be honest, at first I thought you were being dramatic about your spat with Ally. And I was really enjoying the sandwich.”

  She glared at him and dangled the Baggie in front of him. “This is his straw.” When his hand extended toward it, she yanked it out of his reach. “Please send it in without telling Ally. I’m reserving the slightest bit of hope that it won’t be a match. Then Ally won’t have to know I doubted her.”

  Gallagher sighed. “Okay. I’ll get it off to the lab today.”

  “Thank you.” She squeezed his forearm and got up to leave.

  “I still think she deserves the benefit of the doubt,” he said.

  Belle smiled and crossed her fingers. “I so want to believe that.”

  She hopped onto her bicycle and pedaled home hard, vigorously, until her quads and shins burned and the loose strands of hair from her ponytail stuck to her sweaty neck. Nearing her house, she savored the woodsy smell of the tree-lined road and the death-metal drumbeat of a woodpecker riveting a tree.

  Hopefully, Gallagher wouldn’t “lose” the one and only piece of evidence that could tie Bob to such a horrid crime. Without it, Charlene’s claim, Judy’s scrawled revelation, and the baby’s remains would be nothing more than parts of a suburban myth that began and ended with Belle.

  She’d done all she could for them. It was out of her hands now.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The morning of Bob’s wake Danville was a society observing the same somber holiday. CLOSED signs adorned store windows along Main Street, and light traffic flowed in a steady stream in the same direction. Outside the funeral home, people lined the sidewalk, marveling at the procession of uniformed law enforcement from neighboring towns before filing in to pay their respects to their beloved Sheriff Robert T. Morgan, pillar of all things decent.

  Belle sat on the stone wall out front waiting to see if the line would ever go down, apprehensive about facing Ally after her disheartening conversation with Gallagher. She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the early morning sun, finding small comfort in the thought that, after the wake, Bob was going to be cremated.

  Give him a little sneak preview of where he was headed in the great beyond.

  After a good hour wait, she made her way into the hall outside the room in which he was laid out. She spotted Ally through the crowd standing off to the side, a stoic sentinel ready to assist Shirley in any way. Black was definitely her color.

  The thought of kneeling in front of Bob and pretending to say a prayer for him made her sick. But if there was such a being as God, he’d want her to pray for him, as wretched as he was. If anyone ever needed prayer, it was a pig like him.

  “Belle.” Chloe said her name as she tugged on her shirt sleeve.

  She moved out of line to hug her. “Hey, you.”

  “I miss you,” Chloe said, still clinging to her. “Where have you been?”

  “I’m around. Your aunt’s been wrapped up in all this lately.”

  “She’s been so weird. She really misses you.”

  Belle smiled, hoping it was true. “I’ve missed you guys. Are you doing okay? I know he was sort of like a grandfather to you.”

  She made a face. “Not really.”

  Impelled by Chloe’s cryptic response, Belle escorted her off to the side to settle her suspicions once and for all. “You spent a lot of time with Bob and Shirley, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah. When I was little. I stopped last summer.”

  “Really,” she said casually. “They seemed like such a sweet old couple.”

  “I think Bob was starting to lose it.”

  “Why do you say that? Was he forgetting stuff?”

  “He was just…I don’t know.”

  The hair on Belle’s neck rose as Chloe looked away. The kid was clearly growing uncomfortable with the topic.

  “Did you ever talk to your aunt about him, starting to lose it, I mean?”

  Chloe shook her head. Something was buried in there. Should she keep digging? Well, she couldn’t just ignore it.

  She took Chloe by the arm, cut across the line, and walked her down the hall away from the crowd streaming through the front entrance. “Chloe, I don’t know how to ask you this, so I’m just gonna come out and say it. Did he ever hurt you in any way?”

  She stared at Belle like an injured bird unsure if the human was about to help or hurt her.

  “You can confide in me,” Belle added. “I’m a teacher. Nothing bad will happen to you if you tell.”

  Her lips parted as if her words snagged on something on their way out.

  Belle gently clasped Chloe’s hand. “It’s okay. Just say yes or no.”

  “No,” she said reluctantly. “Not really.”

  “What does ‘not really’ mean?” Belle minded her tone, careful not to sound like she was pressing her.

  “Well, he never hurt me, but he would try to get me to sit in his lap. I felt like I was too old for that.”

  Belle gently lifted Chloe’s face up by her chin. “You’re absolutely right. You are too old for that.”

  “Then he would try to tickle me, and I started getting these vibes—like I don’t know. I didn’t feel comfortable being around him anymore.”

  “Had he made you feel that way when you were little?”

  Chloe reflected on the question. “Not really. I
think it was when I started getting boobs.”

  Belle’s stomach turned. The son of a bitch certainly had a type.

  “I’m really proud of you.” She smiled and clapped Chloe’s hand between hers.

  Chloe grinned in embarrassment. “Why?”

  “One, for having the guts to share that with me, and two, for knowing you could stand up for yourself when someone started messing with you.”

  She frowned. “He did mess with me, didn’t he?”

  Belle forced a brave face for her. “But he’ll never have the chance to do it again. Promise me something, will you?”

  Chloe nodded.

  “If anyone ever tries to mess with you again, please tell your aunt or me or some other adult you trust.”

  “Nobody better try,” Chloe said with a smile. “I’ll donkey-kick ’em in the nuts if they do.”

  “That’ll work, too.” Belle wrapped Chloe in a firm hug. “But seriously, don’t ever be afraid to speak up.”

  “Okay,” Chloe said, still clinging to her.

  “Hey, you two.” Ally approached them. “I was looking for you,” she said to Chloe.

  “Here I am,” Chloe said with a flourish of her arms. “I’ll go check on Shirley.” She gave Belle a knowing grin before leaving.

  “I was about to come in when she stopped me,” Belle said. “How are you?”

  “I’m doing okay. You?”

  “Fine…other than missing you like mad.”

  “I miss you, too,” Ally said, looking down. She had to have heard the anguish in Belle’s voice. Was she avoiding eye contact because she felt it, too, or was it a requiem for their love affair?

  “Do you?” Belle said.

  Ally stared into her eyes. “Yeah. A lot. I know I haven’t acted like it much lately.”

  “No, you haven’t.” Belle pursed her lips and flipped her hair back.

  “And I’m sorry for the way I reacted when you told me about Charlene. I was already completely stressed out, and that pushed me right over the edge.”

  “It was a rather shitty position for you to be in.”

  “Thanks for understanding that.” Ally’s smile looked sincere, the first of its kind Belle had seen on her in a while.