Last year I had some unpleasant experiences on this board, so I haven't posted in quite a while. Taking a chance. Please note, all "Guest" reviews, even those reviewers that have creative names w/o having an account, will be deleted.
This is the third story with Adam and Sibella. The first two are in the M section. This one is rated the equivalent of PG13
It Was Murder (or How Adam and Sibella Solved a Crime)
I
Sibella Cartwright rushed out, the shop bell clanging again upon her exit. She leaned against the door to catch her breath, the "Open" sign in the store window facing the morning sun. She pressed one small, gloved hand to her bosom, trying to steady her breathing. Her only thought was to get away from there and to her husband. He would know what to do. After all, he was always so infuriatingly in control, so logical and rational. He would know what came next in such a situation – he would know and would take care of everything.
Sibella hurried down the street, the heels of her fashionable lambskin boots clicking on the wooden boardwalk. Men on the street tipped their hats and the women smiled at her; everyone who resided in Virginia City knew who she was – the only Cartwright bride. Although Sibella felt her responses, a nod in reply, a forced smile to the gentleman, must be construed as insincere by everyone, she wasn't concerned. The Cartwright and Sons Ltd. office in the two-story building near the Palace Hotel was her destination. That was all that mattered.
Miss Pear sat at her typewriter in the office anteroom surrounded by filing cabinets, two potted palms, a hanging fern, and four upholstered chairs in beige, grey, and maroon stripes. The only window caught the afternoon sun so she relied on the banker's lamp to illuminate the contract. It and its two copies had to be ready to be signed since the negotiations for railroad timbers had been successful and the three men were in the office sipping coffee laced with brandy although it was before noon. Miss Pear frowned on drinking as her own father had indulged, much to her mother's dismay. He would, as her mother said years earlier, "Drink up our hard-earned money and then piss it out in the alleyway!" But Miss Pear would forgive Mr. Cartwright anything, even drinking spirits before noon; he could do no wrong in her eyes.
The amanuensis was finishing up, filling in the blanks in the standard contract, rolling the paper to sit evenly, making certain the carbon paper between the three pieces of paper was straight – smears and smudges would draw a furrowed brow from the boss; Mr. Cartwright did not suffer delays and he would be calling for the copies at any second. Besides, she certainly didn't want to disappoint him; his smile was all she desired, albeit she readily accepted the tidy sum he paid for her typing skills and ability to organize the files. Every contract could be found and pulled at a moment's notice and many times, Mr. Cartwright had said he didn't know what he would do without her. Maybe one day he would look at her differently than just as an efficient part of the machinery, as necessary as the carbonated paper.
Sibella pushed open the office door and headed for her husband's office. The door with the smoked glass window was closed but the laughter of three men could be heard from inside. The door was not completely soundproof and Miss Pear had no qualms about standing near it on occasion and listening. She learned so many things that way.
"Mrs. Cartwright, may I help you?" Miss Pear had quickly risen from her straight-back chair and interposed herself between Mrs. Cartwright and the office door.
"I need to see my husband." Sibella moved to Miss Pear's left but Miss Pear stepped in front of her again.
Such a silly woman, Miss Pear thought. Any woman that lovely had to be dimwitted. Sibella Cartwright was far too young, far too shallow to be married to such an intelligent, handsome, conservative man like Adam Cartwright. Here Sibella was, almost 16 years younger than her husband, dressed in expensive clothes of the latest style bought on a trip to San Francisco or ordered from a style house in New York and altered here. Yes, Miss Pear knew all about Mrs. Cartwright's lavish spending, all the checks signed by her husband without complaint. But that was the way life was for beautiful women and Mrs. Cartwright was beautiful, Miss Pear hated to admit, with milky skin, deep blue eyes and auburn hair piled high on her head and wearing a fetching bonnet decorated with silk roses and pink ribbons.
But could she type? Miss Pear took comfort in the fact that when it came to helping her husband with business, Sibella Cartwright would be useless. Absolutely of no use at all.
"Miss Pear, please step out of my way. I need to see my husband!"
"He's in a meeting! Really, Mrs. Cartwright. You must wait! He can't be interrupted!"
Sibella paused for a moment and then, with a quick sidestep and deftly avoiding Miss Pear's arm, Sibella opened the office door and stood there, one hand still on the handle. The three men were surprised and it took them a moment to rise from their chairs.
"Sibella?" Adam Cartwright moved from around his desk, coming to his wife. "What is it?"
"I tried to have her wait, Mr. Cartwright – I told her you were in an important meeting but she wouldn't listen." Miss Pear wrung her hands.
"It's all right, Miss Pear. I'll take care of things." Adam didn't even notice Miss Pear's anxious look. All he noticed was how lovely Sibella looked. Why, with her eyes shining and her lips softly parted, she looked as she had that morning after they had been intimate. And again, Adam was back in their marriage bed with his wife's smooth body next to him, her round arms about his neck…
"Oh, Adam, it was awful! I…oh, it was awful!" Sibella looked into the worried face of her husband and suddenly, she felt the ground fall out from under her. When she opened her eyes again, she was lying on the leather couch in her husband's office with him bending over her, chafing her wrist. The other two men stood behind him, looking down at her.
"Miss Pear, get some water," Adam barked.
Miss Pear went out into the anteroom and held a glass under the spigot of a large ceramic crock. Every morning, she arrived early to clean the crock and fill it with fresh water from the pump out back and every evening, she emptied it, first watering the plants.
Once the glass was adequately filled, Miss Pear took it inside the office, resisting the impulse to toss the contents into Mrs. Cartwright's face. That would revive her!
"Thank you, Miss Pear," Adam said, taking the glass from her. Sibella, allowing herself to sit up, also thanked Miss Pear and before taking the glass from her husband, loosened the wide grosgrain ribbon tied under her chin and pulled off her bonnet.
"Shall I fetch the doctor?" Miss Pear asked.
"No," Sibella said. "Please, don't. I…oh, Adam, it was awful!" And then the tears started.
"What, my darling. What? Is Noah all right?" Adam gave his wife his white linen handkerchief.
And just like that. Miss Pear knew she was dismissed, completely forgotten.
Sibella dabbed at her eyes. "Noah's fine. Your father's watching him, but…there's been a murder! A murder, Adam! And I saw it!"
