9
Discoveries
Henry quickly scampered upstairs and dropped his backpack on the floor in his room. He looked at his watch and saw that it was almost seven. Regina usually returned from her meetings around seven thirty or eight, but on the off chance she got back early, Henry wanted to search her study and maybe even her bedroom for the key.
He went down into the office first, reasoning that she might keep it there because it was a logical place to look. He looked on her desk, which was crammed with papers, most of it having to do with projects and such. Henry ignored them. He pulled open all the drawers in the desk, but they were either files or had envelopes and ordinary desk items, like staples, pens, and paper clips inside. He carefully shut the drawers and went to look in the supply closet.
But there was nothing in there either except more printer paper, ink cartridges, and more envelopes, tape, and pencils. Boring!
Sighing, he went upstairs. It had taken him fifteen minutes to thoroughly search the office, and he wanted to look in the bedroom dresser drawer. He had an odd feeling that what he was looking for was there.
Regina's bedroom was dark until he opened the lights. They were recessed and cast a soft glow over the huge queen sized bed with dark sheets, the color of crimson, like drying blood, Henry had always thought. She had thick velvet drapes of black at the window and the carpet was a thick plush, a charcoal gray color that muffled your footsteps. There was a master bath that had whirlpool that could seat four people, and a walk in closet bigger than most people's single bedrooms. To either side of the massive bed, which required steps to get on, were mahogany night tables. A dresser with a large mirror was across from it, complete with a little bench so Regina could sit to do her nails and makeup.
Henry was rarely ever invited in here, and being in here now made him feel odd. He knew that Graham had occasionally spent the night here, and thinking about the former sheriff like that made him slightly ill. He knew Graham had been trapped by Regina, but still . . . how could he have slept with her like that? Henry decided he'd have thrown himself off a bridge first.
His sneakers made no sound on the carpet as he padded over to the first nightstand and opened the drawer. Nothing except some old paperback romances about some duke and some merchant's daughter. He shut the drawer, disappointed.
Then he went and opened the bottom drawer. Only some rolled up stockings and trouser socks met his eyes.
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the key's in her purse, he thought dejectedly. Wasn't that where most people kept their keys?
He went around the bed to the last nightstand and pulled open the top drawer.
He nearly fell on the floor, he was so embarrassed. The drawer was full of underthings . . . lacy silk underwear in different colors, bras, slips, camisoles. Henry felt like he'd been dragged into a Victoria's Secret catalog without knowing.
"I don't believe this!" he groaned aloud. He stuffed his hands inside the drawer, feeling for the bottom.
He felt like a peeping Tom. He didn't even know she wore this stuff, and wondered if she'd ever worn some it when Graham was around. Don't go there! Just don't! I don't wanna know the answer to that!
Suddenly, his hand touched something . . . not frilly and silky.
He froze. Then he threw out some of the bras and underwear.
They landed at his feet, but he didn't care. There was something hidden among them.
Then he saw it, a small skinny box made of green leather. He carefully lifted it out and opened it. Inside was a wrought iron key painted white. Henry almost whooped aloud for joy. The key! He'd found it!
He carefully slipped the key into his pocket and then put the box back under the under garments. He had just finished picking up the rest of the items and shoving them in the box when he heard sudden footsteps coming towards the bedroom.
"Oh no! I don't have time to hide!" he gasped in horror. But his facile little mind was already coming up with a story.
He went over to the big dresser and pretended to be looking at a small rosewood case with some pretty necklaces of rubies, sapphires, and citrines. Actually there were dangling earrings, rings, and a bracelet too.
He could feel the key burning a hole in the pocket of his jeans, but he looked up as Regina entered, kicking off her heels as she did so. "Oh, hi, Mom!" He gave her an innocent little boy grin, one he'd perfected for occasions such as this.
"Henry! What are you doing in here? You know I don't like you coming in my room when I'm not there," she frowned at him, her pretty mouth turning down in disapproval.
"I know and I'm sorry, but I needed a reference."
"What reference?"
"I needed to look at your jewelry. I wanted to get Alina something nice for her birthday. It's coming up in a month and I thought she'd like something pretty to wear, you know all about that girl stuff." Henry shrugged, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He hoped he sounded convincing. "So I thought I'd just peek at what you've got and it'd give me an idea."
Regina rolled her eyes. Boys! They came up with the stupidest ideas sometimes. Maybe it was like a disease. "Why didn't you wait until I came home, Henry? I could have told you that that necklace set is far too sophisticated for a young girl."
"It is?"
"God! You look like you just fell off the back of a turnip cart!" Regina snorted, sounding a lot like her mother. In fact, that was one of her mother's favorite expressions. "Listen to me, Henry. Alina is what, ten? No ten-year-old wears jewelry like mine. That's to impress a man when she's grown." Privately, Regina wondered if Alina would ever be good looking enough to get a man. Maybe because of her father's money, but she was a skinny, coltish girl, with brown hair and impudent brown eyes and far too smart and insolent for her own good. She had to take after her father. At least in Regina's opinion, which, in her mind, was the only one that mattered. "I can take you to a very exclusive boutique I know of near here and get you something very nice, but appropriate for a child. With no mother to help her, no wonder she's dressed like a ragamuffin sometimes."
"No, she's not," Henry protested. "She dresses like a normal kid."
"Exactly." Regina waved a hand at him. "All right, now scoot! I'm tired, all those meetings made me feel exhausted. I need a hot bath and some wine to relax."
Henry didn't need to be told twice. He walked as quickly as he could without arousing her suspicion back to his room. He immediately removed the key and tucked it inside The Book in his backpack. Then he got into pajamas. His heart was still pounding from his near miss. "Somebody up there must sure like me," he said as he jumped on his bed.
He reached for the walkie talkie under his pillow and said into it, "Emma, this is Agent Bond from Operation Cobra. The target's been acquired. Repeat: target acquired. Can you read me? Over."
There was static for a few moments, then Emma's voice, "Agent Bond, you have it?"
"Yup? Where should I meet you?"
"I'll pick you up after school and we can have an ice cream or something at Granny's."
"Great! Can we get one for Alina and Mr. Gold too? She should be home by then."
"If you know what kind they like, okay."
"I do. Alina's favorite is peanut butter with chocolate sprinkles, and Mr. Gold likes cherry vanilla with walnuts and chocolate sauce."
"I won't ask how you know that."
"I'm Alina's best friend and she told me her dad eats that for dessert most nights," Henry informed her.
"Okay, Henry. Meet you right after school tomorrow."
"Got it. Agent Bond out." He carefully shut the walkie talkie off and put it back under his pillow. It was the best birthday present he'd ever gotten from Alina. He was so excited that he could barely sleep, and it took seven comic books before he dozed off.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
"Will you tell me if you find anything?" Henry asked as he ate his double chocolate chocolate chip sundae with whipped cream and cinnamon.
"We'll see," Emma said, not wanting to involve the kid anymore than he already was. God only knew what he'd come up with next. It was a good thing Alina was still on bed rest, because the two of them were like monkeys on crack, into everything all at once. "Let's get Alina and Mr. Gold their ice cream now and see how Alina's doing."
Henry finished his sundae and waited until Emma finished her apple pie with vanilla ice cream. He had given Emma the crypt key in the car on the way here. He hoped she wouldn't flip out when she found the hearts.
He waited while Emma ordered the ice cream, standing impatiently before the doors.
Emma remembered that Saylah was there was well, and ordered her a basic vanilla sundae with whipped cream and hot fudge sauce with a cherry, because she wasn't sure what ice cream she ate, but everyone liked vanilla, right? Once Ruby had given her the ice cream, they left the diner and headed over to Emma's Bug.
Henry was quiet on the way over to the Golds' brick house with salmon trim. He couldn't wait to tell Alina about finding the key and also about the rumor that Tom and his parents were going to find themselves out on the street because Gold was suing them for everything they had. Henry wasn't sure if that were true or not, but if it was, he couldn't blame Gold for doing it. After all, it was his daughter who'd been put in the hospital.
When they arrived, Saylah answered the door. "Hello, Henry! You're just in time for hot cocoa. I just brought some in for Alina and Mr. G in the den. That imp's driving him crazy, because Dr. Whale said she needed to rest when she got home and she wants to be outside."
"I can't blame her. It's a beautiful day out," Emma said.
"Hello, Sheriff Swan! How are things down at the station?"
"Good enough. I've got some ice cream here for you, Alina, and Mr. Gold."
"For me? Goodness, how nice of you!" Saylah exclaimed, taking the bag from her. "You didn't need to do that. But I haven't given myself a treat since Alina's been in the hospital. I was so worried I wore myself to a shadow," she laughed and patted her ample middle.
They followed her into the kitchen, where she put Mr. Gold's and Alina's ice cream on a tray and started to pour Emma and Henry some hot cocoa.
"Oh, Saylah, don't. We're still full from eating our ice cream over at Granny's." Emma said. "Why don't you sit here and eat yours and I'll take this in to them?"
"Thanks, Emma. Henry, you know where the den is, right?"
"Uh huh." Henry beckoned to Emma. "Follow me." He practically lived here sometimes.
They walked down a long hall and heard Mr. Gold and Alina's voices before they entered the den.
"King me," Alina was saying.
"Drat! You caught me!" Gold replied. "I should have seen that coming."
"When opportunity knocks, open the door."
"Now you're quoting me, little miss?"
"You say that all the time, Papa. Your move."
Henry entered and saw Mr. Gold and Alina bent over a checker board. Both had one king, but Henry could see that Alina was positioned to outmaneuver her father if she played the game right. "Hi, Alina! Hi, Mr. Gold. We brought you ice cream."
Gold looked up from putting a black checker down. "You got Regina to bring us ice cream? Has the world turned upside down?"
"Not that I know of," Emma laughed, coming in with the tray. "I hope you're hungry."
"For ice cream? Always," Gold smirked and then said, "I should have known it was you, Emma. Regina would roast in hell before she ever set foot in my house. Thank you." He helped Emma set the tray down.
"Henry, I'm so glad you came over!" Alina said. She was wearing a pretty lavender lounge outfit and fuzzy pink slippers. Her head was still bandaged and she had on her hospital ID bracelet. She was propped up by thick pillows and had a pink and white crocheted afghan beside her on the couch. "I was dying of boredom!" She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her father. "Papa won't let me do anything except lie here and I feel fine."
"That's doctor's orders, Alina Rose, now quit pouting and eat your ice cream. Before I'm committed to the crazy ward," Gold said. He was sitting in a brocade chair, probably a Chippendale, next to the table. "Have a seat, Emma."
Emma pulled up another chair, thinking that Mary Margaret's apartment could fit into one corner of Gold's den. It was huge, but very tastefully appointed. "Rough morning?" she asked Gold sympathetically.
"She was released around ten this morning and since we walked in the door she's been pestering me to go outside. Kids! They don't know what's good for them." Gold picked up his dish of cherry vanilla and said, "Now who told you this is my favorite?"
"Henry," Emma admitted.
"Smart boy," Gold chuckled, and began to eat it.
"Thanks, Emma!" Alina half-sang as she began to eat her sundae. "So, what's been going on at school while I was away?"
"Miss Blanchard gave us some crazy math project to do. We have to build a pyramid out of toothpicks using this formula." Henry said.
"Yuck! Do I have to make it up?" Alina asked.
"No. Least I don't think so." Henry said.
"Thank God!"
"Paige said to tell you hello from her. We ate lunch together today since you weren't there," Henry said. "Oh, and wait till you hear about Tom."
"What about him? Is Emma gonna arrest his sorry ass and send him down to juvie?"
"I wish," Emma said.
"Alina Rose, you mind that mouth of yours!" Gold scolded. "Before I get out the bar of Ivory."
Alina cast an apologetic glance at him. "Oops. Sorry. It just slipped out. Anyway, what happened?"
Just as Henry started to explain, Gold picked up his mug of cocoa. On it, Emma couldn't help but notice, was written Life doesn't come with instructions. That's what fathers are for.
"That's real cute," she nodded at the mug when Gold looked at her.
"You talking to me, dearie?" he smirked, then said, "Blame that on Saylah. She helped Alina pick it out for my birthday last year."
"I wish I could have said that about mine," Emma said, a trifle wistfully.
"Mine didn't teach me much except how to sew a straight seam," Gold replied. "That and duck when he came home from having one too many."
"He was an alcoholic?"
"Until the day he packed up and left," Gold said. "I damn near had a party that day." He couldn't recall much about the man, but what he did recall was not pleasant.
"Papa, did you sue Tom and kick his family out on the street?" Alina asked.
"Did I what? Who told you that?" Gold frowned.
"I did. I heard that you were gonna make the Masons live on the street in a cardboard box," Henry informed him.
"Oh, good God! I never said that. I said I might do that, not that I would."
"What did you do to him, sir?" asked Henry.
"I decided to settle it between him and me," Gold replied. "So, he comes to work for me in my shop for awhile and I can teach him a better lesson than a lawsuit. Hopefully."
"Oh. That's a lot better than what some people said you did," Henry remarked.
"You shouldn't repeat rumors, Henry," Emma reproved.
"Yeah, people are stupid," Alina said. "Like that gigglehead Marian Preston. She always laughs at everything Miss Blanchard says, even when it's not funny."
"She's got problems," Henry rolled his eyes. "And so does Tom's friend, Davey. He's always trying to steal everybody's homework."
"Is he the one who goes around high-fiving everybody and then grabs your paper?"
"Yeah. I'd like to give him a high five all right. With a chair. Right in his dumb face," Henry said heatedly.
"Henry!" Emma exclaimed.
"What? He tried to get my answers to our history quiz today." Henry protested.
"If you have Tom come work for you, Papa, you'd better not let any of his school friends in your shop. They'll rob you blind."
"I'll make sure I watch him, like I watch everyone who come in," Gold assured her. "Customers . . . they're either a potential money maker or a potential disaster waiting to happen."
"Does Miss Blanchard know?" asked Emma.
"She does now," Henry said. "Want me to finish your game, sir?"
"Go ahead, Henry. She was beating me anyway." He turned to Emma. "Find anything else out about Regina?"
She lowered her voice. "Not yet, but I'm checking out the crypt again."
"Ah. With that crowbar?"
"No. I found a skeleton key," Emma said, winking.
"Take pictures. Nothing beats evidence," Gold warned.
"Spoken like a true lawyer," Emma grinned.
Gold just gave her a slight smile and continued eating his ice cream.
Page~*~*~*~Break
Mills family crypt:
Emma went back to the crypt that same night and tried the key in the lock. It creaked like a door in a B-rated horror film, but it opened. She slipped inside, a flashlight lighting the way. When she reached the stone slab, she quickly pulled on a plastic glove and pushed on the side of the coffin.
As before, the slab slid aside and Emma went down into the hole created. It was pitch dark, but then lights came on.
Emma continued down the stairs and saw the room where the kids had been trapped.
It was featureless . . . except for the rows of wooden receptacles along the walls, like little drawers.
At first Emma though they were niches where family members ashes rested. But then she tugged on a brass handle and the drawer slid out . . . to reveal something unspeakable inside.
"Hearts!" she gasped, feeling the air leave her body in a rush.
She propped herself up against the drawers and hissed, "Holy God, Henry was right! There really are hearts in here. Dozens. What is she—a serial killer? The Heartless Lover? Oh, Graham! I'm sorry I couldn't save you. But I never thought . . ."
She reeled with the knowledge, gasping for air as she pulled out one drawer and then another.
Now what?
Remembering Gold's instructions, she pulled out a disposable camera and began taking pictures as fast as she could. Documentation. Proof was the key.
Then she crept back up the steps, making sure the room was sealed shut before she left the crypt locked. All the way home, she bit her nails and wished Regina were not the mayor.
Page~*~*~*~Break
Emma wished Graham were still alive so she could share her find with him. But he wasn't and the only other person who knew of her nocturnal activity was Mr. Gold. Did he suspect Regina was up to no good? Because she had noticed the two of them didn't seem to like each other. Funny that Henry and Alina did.
She had dropped off the camera early this morning and was going to pick up the pictures this afternoon. She tried to find something that would finger Regina, but her file came up with nothing. Emma even tried surfing the Net but again, came up with nothing. Emma knew there was something poisonous about Regina, and her squeaky-clean image was hiding something. She had the pictures, now she needed an ally willing to stand up to the mayor. And that left but one person.
Gold.
After picking up the pictures, Emma headed over to Gold's pawnshop.
"Can I talk to you privately?" she asked the pawnbroker as soon as he looked over at her.
"Certainly. Come into my office," he indicated she could come around the counter. "Keep sweeping, Thomas. The floor won't clean itself," he called to the boy, who was pushing a broom at the other end of the shop.
As the two disappeared into Gold's back room, Tom looked up and glared at their backs. Then he lowered his head and kept sweeping. Who knew if Gold had the place bugged?
Emma looked around before she removed the pictures from her purse. "I wanted you to see these. Just so you can confirm what I think they are."
Gold took them and examined them. "They're hearts, dearie. Human hearts, to be exact."
"How do you know that? They could be from . . . animals."
"No. Any anatomy book will tell you otherwise. Look." He went to a shelf and pulled down a large illustrated guide of parts of the body. He opened the page to a picture of a human heart. "Now compare them, Emma."
Emma looked. "Oh, God. Then they're real. I was hoping it was some kind of sick joke."
"From Regina? Emma, she plays pranks till someone dies and the only one laughing is her."
"What is she? A serial killer? She's deranged."
"She's the Evil Queen, dearie. A necromancer of terrible power."
"Now you sound like Henry. There is no such thing as magic."
"Isn't there?"
"Gold, come off it! Magic doesn't exist. What would you know about it anyway? You going to tell me you're a magician, a lawyer, a tailor, and a pawnbroker?"
"I've been many things, Swan." Gold said enigmatically. "Things I can't even recall, but I will. One thing I do know, however, is that magic was real here. At one time."
He limped over to his bookshelf again and took down a well-thumbed through book called The Universal Spiral. "This will explain things a little more concisely."
She eyed the book and him as if they were about to start dancing and jig and singing in Swahili. "You expect me to believe that old beat up book? I thought you were a logical businessman, Gold."
"Even cold businessmen learn to face facts, dearie." He set the book down and leaned over towards her. "The fact is, Emma, that once magic was a s common as grains of sand here in this world. Your own Native American culture has a long proud history of Dreamers, shamans, and heroes who used Power—magical power—for the good of all. There is a rich history of magic in this land, but over time, people have forgotten it was here at all."
"They didn't forget, Gold. They learned better."
"Learned not to speak of it, for it was forbidden. Learned not to use it, or else be burned at the stake for witchcraft. But that doesn't mean it didn't exist here. If this really were a land without magic, the curse wouldn't function here, Emma. Everyone in Storybrooke would be as they were before."
"Henry's gotten to you too, hasn't he? You think all that nonsense he spouts is true. That I'm . . . some kind of savior and you're all fairy tale characters from another world. What is this, Star Trek?"
Gold frowned. "Listen to yourself, Emma! Who are you trying to convince? Because there are gaps in my memory, dearie, that I can't figure out. Not just forgetting little things either, I'm talking about real gaps—stretches of time—years—where I can't remember anything. And I'm not prone to getting head injuries or insanity. Nor do I drink or do drugs, dearie."
"You can't be serious! Saying magic is real!"
"I'm saying magic was once real. And it can be again. You simply have to believe."
"Believe?"
"Yes. Think about it. There are things in this world, Emma, that cannot be seen, touched, or felt. How do you know they exist? You take it on faith. Do you remember the stories of King Arthur and his great wizard, Merlin? There have been archaeological finds proving that Arthur was a real person. I believe Merlin was also. And that he had magic . . . like many did during that time. Magic flourished then. Because people believed. But now it doesn't. Because people stopped believing. They started relying on science. You ask me why Regina keeps hearts in her father's crypt?"
"Because she's sick in the head."
"Yes. And because she's a necromancer of the old order." He flipped through the book. "Read this, Emma. It will explain magic better than I can."
Emma glared at him. "I thought I could depend on you to help me! Instead you're behaving like a-a crackpot, Gold!"
"Read it, Emma. And forget what you think you know. Magic is the hidden power and once it ruled this world. It's all there. Magic is a spiral, it goes up and down as the universe turns. But it always returns, dearie. For a price."
"What do you know, Gold? Were you . . . in on this with her?"
"Don't be stupid! I hate her as much as you do. I know she makes a dangerous enemy, Swan. Watch your back. Watch your son. He knows more than I do at the moment."
"Have you read his book then?"
"No. Not yet. Maybe I should. It could trigger my missing memories."
"Maybe you ought to make an appointment with Archie," Emma shot back.
"Read that before you condemn me to a madhouse," Gold said. "It was written by a real person, and not related to any of us here. It presents magic in a new light. It isn't just smoke and mirrors and illusion, Emma. That much I do know. Like I know the sky is blue."
Emma sighed and shoved the pictures in her purse. Then she took the book and put it there too. "All right, Gold. I'll humor you. Who in hell ever heard of a lawyer who believes in magic?"
"I'm not your average lawyer, Emma. I believe in true love too. I'm an aberration."
"You're nuttier than a fucking fruitcake, Gold. But you're what I've got to work with. Maybe I'm crazy too."
"You never know, dearie. Sometimes those we think are crazy actually are the sanest ones of all."
"Regina is crazy."
"No argument there, dearie. Get some sleep. And think about what I told you."
"Yes, Master Yoda," Emma bowed mockingly to him before she walked out of the shop. Great, now she had a headache. Maybe it was sign.
A/N: Note, the memories Gold has of his father are true ones. Now what will Emma do? Should Gold ask Henry to read the Once Upon a Time book?
