Chapter V
The Entrusting
"Are you sure you don't want to go shopping with me? I don't know if I want to leave you alone here, with all that's
happening--"
"I'll be fine, Grandpa," Charlotte insisted, ushering her grandfather out the door. "Breakfast was delicious, but I really need to
get cracking on my homework. You go and have fun." Vincent stopped dead in his tracks, making her run into his back.
"Are you sure, Charlotte?"
"Positive." She gave him another push out the door. "Go golfing if you want, I don't care." He chuckled.
"I think golfing's out. Look at it pour." The rain outside fell in silver sheets, accompanied by a flash of lightning every now and
then.
"Have fun, Grandpa. That's an order."
"Oh, fine." He kissed her on the cheek. "Keep the doors locked. Don't answer, even if the bell rings--"
"I know. Just go!" O'Farland laughed and hobbled out the door.
"I can tell when I'm being thrown out. Bye, Lottie."
"Bye, Grandpa!" Charlotte waved vigorously until the Elantra pulled out of the garage and the door lowered. Then she dropped
her hand and slammed the door.
"Isaac! Isaac, I know you're around here somewhere! Come out!" She stood in the living room in silence, then yelled
again. "Isaac, you big lump! Get out here--" Charlotte stopped. "I'm so stupid," she muttered, turning to the window. Then she
screamed. Outside on the front porch was a tall, dark figure, his neck a bare black stump... She screamed again and again, but
there was no one to hear her. Then the hood was pulled back. "Oh my God--Isaac?!" He was drenched, his dark hair plastered
to his head. "What are you doing out there?!" Isaac frowned and motioned to the door. She opened it and let him in. "What were
you doing out there?" she repeated.
"Getting wet, mostly," Isaac grumbled, shaking his head to release excess water. Charlotte got splashed with drops of rain and
sputtered.
"Watch it. You smell like a wet dog." He ran a hand through his midnight black hair and frowned.
"Thank you so very much for the warm welcome." She grinned obnoxiously.
"Any time." Isaac brushed off his jacket and stayed quiet. Charlotte bit her lip, rubbing her right arm. "Um... would you like a
towel?" He looked up and nodded.
"Yes, if it would not trouble you." She smiled slightly, heading for the linen closet.
"What? You think I'm going to give you a towel when you're wet and cold? What kind of weirdo are you?" Isaac shifted
uncomfortably.
"I'm sorry." Charlotte pulled a rather large, fluffy burgundy towel from the wardrobe and shoved it at his chest.
"I was joking. You're dripping wet, you big galoot." Isaac nodded, smiling sheepishly.
"Ah. Right." He put the towel over his head and ruffled it around. When he pulled it off, his hair was mussed and in disarray.
Charlotte snickered and Isaac looked up. "What?"
"Nothing... You just look like a sheepdog." He finished toweling off, rolling his eyes.
"You're so droll, Lady O'Farland." Charlotte took the cloth from him and started for the laundry room, then turned back.
"Give me your coat." Isaac frowned, but slipped it off anyway.
"Why?"
"I'll run it through the dryer. You'll die of frostbite in that thing." She walked to the laundry room and set the dryer, then tossed
the towel inside and shut the door. "Besides, you'll get the furniture wet." The machine began humming and Charlotte ambled
back out to the living room. Isaac pulled off his boots and sat down on the couch.
"Your concern is touching, Lady O'Farland." She smiled and sat down beside him.
"I try." Suddenly a bit embarrassed to be sitting next to the barefooted, jacket-shed young man, Charlotte coughed and scooted
away. "So what did you need to discuss now?" Isaac rubbed his neck absently.
"Well, I'm not quite sure. Seeing as another murder may be taking place in the near future, I presume we need to take
affirmative action." Charlotte rose a russet brow.
"Oh? Any affirmative action in mind?" He shifted and sighed.
"No." She glared down at the space between her feet.
"Well, damn." Isaac half smiled and kneaded his forehead.
"Yes, that sums it up rather well."
After sitting in silence for a moment, Charlotte looked over at him.
"Um... I'd like to thank you for... ah... trying to help me and everything." Isaac nodded a little, turning towards her.
"You're most welcome." Charlotte's shoulder touched his and she swallowed, trying to move away subconsciously.
"Well--" she began, then cleared her throat when her voice broke. "Well, there isn't any idea of who might be the next victims?"
"No." Well, that was the end of that conversation. They sat in silence for another agonizingly long moment. Then the phone
rang.
"Ah! Bloody--!" Charlotte leapt to her feet and ran to the cordless phone on the wall of the kitchen. She picked it up after
glancing at Isaac. "Hello?"
"Hello, Charlotte, darling!" sang an English accent on the other line. She winced and covered the receiver with her hand.
"It's my mother!" Then she let it go and acquired a bright voice. "Why hello, Mother! I'm absolutely delighted to hear from you!"
"Now stop that. I know you're upset about your father and I missing your birthday, biscuit, but it couldn't be avoided." Charlotte
covered her face with her free hand.
"Mother, please refrain from addressing me as a food product."
"Charly, dear--"
"And whatever you do, don't call me Charly," she begged, her only comfort being that Isaac couldn't hear her mother. Mrs.
O'Farland sighed heavily, as if the deprivation of using the embarrassing name was as drastic as the loss of blood.
"Very well, Charlotte. I simply wished to call and talk with you for a while."
"I'm... pretty busy, Mom. I've got a--" She glanced at Isaac. "--um, a friend over. Can you call back later?"
"No, I'm sorry, darling," her mother said apologetically, and it was all Charlotte could do not to dance a little jig right in the
middle of the kitchen. "Your father and I are heading for London tomorrow. We've been invited to a Halloween party."
"Oh, gosh. I completely forgot! Monday is--"
"Halloween, yes. Aren't you going to a party with your friends?" What friends? she immediately thought.
"Oh... yeah, of course." Charlotte shifted impatiently from foot to foot. "Well, my friend looks pretty bored." Isaac had slipped off
into the study and returned with a stack of books. He was now buried in a copy of Astronomy Through the Ages. "I'd better go,
Mom." Another sigh.
"Of course. Cheerio, sweet pea."
"Goodbye, silly sausage."
"Charlotte!"
"Sorry, Mother. Goodbye." There was a faint click and then the dial tone. With a groan, Charlotte slammed the phone down
onto the hook and went back into the den. "I can't leave you alone for a second!" Isaac shut the book, using his finger as a
marker.
"It didn't look like you would be done any time soon, so I took the liberty of--"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go on and read." She plopped down beside him. Isaac blinked.
"Oh. Thank you." Then he put his nose back between the pages.
Charlotte leaned over his shoulder, pointing at a picture on the page.
"That's Leo. The lion. See? It looks like a big 'p'."
"Mm hm. And that one?"
"That's the Northern Cross." Isaac squinted at the constellations mapped in the book.
"Are you certain? It doesn't look like a cross."
"Yeah, I know. Weird, huh?" Charlotte peered at the book, then turned and looked out the window. It was suddenly as if there
was no danger, as if this man was a friend instead of a stranger. As if there wasn't a feeling of impending evil in her chest.
"Ow! What's this?" She was startled by Isaac's outburst. Charlotte took the box from him quickly.
"Oh, nothing. Just a present from someone far away." He set the book aside and tilted his head slightly.
"May I see?" She bit her lip and opened it, taking out the necklace. She'd nearly forgotten about it. Charlotte fingered the
elegant chain.
"I guess you could look at it." Isaac held out his hand and she handed it over. He examined it carefully.
"It's quite lovely."
"Yeah." Charlotte watched him inspect it, then ventured, "You can have it if you want." He looked up.
"Are you sure you'd want to do that?" She stared at the dainty cross, then nodded.
"Yes. I want you to have it. I really don't need it." Isaac chuckled lightly.
"Do you think it would match my shoes?" Charlotte rolled her eyes.
"Just keep it in your pocket, then." She swallowed, glancing out the window. "Think of it as a... well, something to show you
that... that I trust you." She could see Isaac out of the corner of her eye. He was watching her.
"Are you certain? You're certain you trust me?" She stared outside, then sighed in frustration.
"No, no I'm not. But take the damn thing anyway." Isaac closed his hand over the trinket.
"As you wish, Lady O'Farland."
The dryer buzzed loudly.
"Well, I guess you'd better be going." Isaac continued to watch her, then began putting on his boots.
"I imagine you're correct." Charlotte got up and fetched his jacket from the laundry room. She brought it back out as he stood
up. Isaac reached out to take the coat, but she held on to it.
"Who's going to die, Isaac? Who's going to die?" He frowned slightly, tugging at it.
"I told you, I don't know. If I knew, Lady O'Farland, I'd tell you." Charlotte resisted a moment, then let the jacket go with a sigh.
"You're right." Isaac nodded, pulling the hood over his hair.
"Of course I am." He gave a rather over-elaborate bow. "'Till we meet again, Lady O'Farland." That being said, he turned and
opened the door.
"Goodbye, Isaac." The door banged closed. Charlotte rubbed her arms, shivering, and watched the figure disappear down the
driveway. She waited until he reached the road before rotating the lock. Then, feeling awfully cold and wet, she hurried to the
bathroom to take a shower.
The Entrusting
"Are you sure you don't want to go shopping with me? I don't know if I want to leave you alone here, with all that's
happening--"
"I'll be fine, Grandpa," Charlotte insisted, ushering her grandfather out the door. "Breakfast was delicious, but I really need to
get cracking on my homework. You go and have fun." Vincent stopped dead in his tracks, making her run into his back.
"Are you sure, Charlotte?"
"Positive." She gave him another push out the door. "Go golfing if you want, I don't care." He chuckled.
"I think golfing's out. Look at it pour." The rain outside fell in silver sheets, accompanied by a flash of lightning every now and
then.
"Have fun, Grandpa. That's an order."
"Oh, fine." He kissed her on the cheek. "Keep the doors locked. Don't answer, even if the bell rings--"
"I know. Just go!" O'Farland laughed and hobbled out the door.
"I can tell when I'm being thrown out. Bye, Lottie."
"Bye, Grandpa!" Charlotte waved vigorously until the Elantra pulled out of the garage and the door lowered. Then she dropped
her hand and slammed the door.
"Isaac! Isaac, I know you're around here somewhere! Come out!" She stood in the living room in silence, then yelled
again. "Isaac, you big lump! Get out here--" Charlotte stopped. "I'm so stupid," she muttered, turning to the window. Then she
screamed. Outside on the front porch was a tall, dark figure, his neck a bare black stump... She screamed again and again, but
there was no one to hear her. Then the hood was pulled back. "Oh my God--Isaac?!" He was drenched, his dark hair plastered
to his head. "What are you doing out there?!" Isaac frowned and motioned to the door. She opened it and let him in. "What were
you doing out there?" she repeated.
"Getting wet, mostly," Isaac grumbled, shaking his head to release excess water. Charlotte got splashed with drops of rain and
sputtered.
"Watch it. You smell like a wet dog." He ran a hand through his midnight black hair and frowned.
"Thank you so very much for the warm welcome." She grinned obnoxiously.
"Any time." Isaac brushed off his jacket and stayed quiet. Charlotte bit her lip, rubbing her right arm. "Um... would you like a
towel?" He looked up and nodded.
"Yes, if it would not trouble you." She smiled slightly, heading for the linen closet.
"What? You think I'm going to give you a towel when you're wet and cold? What kind of weirdo are you?" Isaac shifted
uncomfortably.
"I'm sorry." Charlotte pulled a rather large, fluffy burgundy towel from the wardrobe and shoved it at his chest.
"I was joking. You're dripping wet, you big galoot." Isaac nodded, smiling sheepishly.
"Ah. Right." He put the towel over his head and ruffled it around. When he pulled it off, his hair was mussed and in disarray.
Charlotte snickered and Isaac looked up. "What?"
"Nothing... You just look like a sheepdog." He finished toweling off, rolling his eyes.
"You're so droll, Lady O'Farland." Charlotte took the cloth from him and started for the laundry room, then turned back.
"Give me your coat." Isaac frowned, but slipped it off anyway.
"Why?"
"I'll run it through the dryer. You'll die of frostbite in that thing." She walked to the laundry room and set the dryer, then tossed
the towel inside and shut the door. "Besides, you'll get the furniture wet." The machine began humming and Charlotte ambled
back out to the living room. Isaac pulled off his boots and sat down on the couch.
"Your concern is touching, Lady O'Farland." She smiled and sat down beside him.
"I try." Suddenly a bit embarrassed to be sitting next to the barefooted, jacket-shed young man, Charlotte coughed and scooted
away. "So what did you need to discuss now?" Isaac rubbed his neck absently.
"Well, I'm not quite sure. Seeing as another murder may be taking place in the near future, I presume we need to take
affirmative action." Charlotte rose a russet brow.
"Oh? Any affirmative action in mind?" He shifted and sighed.
"No." She glared down at the space between her feet.
"Well, damn." Isaac half smiled and kneaded his forehead.
"Yes, that sums it up rather well."
After sitting in silence for a moment, Charlotte looked over at him.
"Um... I'd like to thank you for... ah... trying to help me and everything." Isaac nodded a little, turning towards her.
"You're most welcome." Charlotte's shoulder touched his and she swallowed, trying to move away subconsciously.
"Well--" she began, then cleared her throat when her voice broke. "Well, there isn't any idea of who might be the next victims?"
"No." Well, that was the end of that conversation. They sat in silence for another agonizingly long moment. Then the phone
rang.
"Ah! Bloody--!" Charlotte leapt to her feet and ran to the cordless phone on the wall of the kitchen. She picked it up after
glancing at Isaac. "Hello?"
"Hello, Charlotte, darling!" sang an English accent on the other line. She winced and covered the receiver with her hand.
"It's my mother!" Then she let it go and acquired a bright voice. "Why hello, Mother! I'm absolutely delighted to hear from you!"
"Now stop that. I know you're upset about your father and I missing your birthday, biscuit, but it couldn't be avoided." Charlotte
covered her face with her free hand.
"Mother, please refrain from addressing me as a food product."
"Charly, dear--"
"And whatever you do, don't call me Charly," she begged, her only comfort being that Isaac couldn't hear her mother. Mrs.
O'Farland sighed heavily, as if the deprivation of using the embarrassing name was as drastic as the loss of blood.
"Very well, Charlotte. I simply wished to call and talk with you for a while."
"I'm... pretty busy, Mom. I've got a--" She glanced at Isaac. "--um, a friend over. Can you call back later?"
"No, I'm sorry, darling," her mother said apologetically, and it was all Charlotte could do not to dance a little jig right in the
middle of the kitchen. "Your father and I are heading for London tomorrow. We've been invited to a Halloween party."
"Oh, gosh. I completely forgot! Monday is--"
"Halloween, yes. Aren't you going to a party with your friends?" What friends? she immediately thought.
"Oh... yeah, of course." Charlotte shifted impatiently from foot to foot. "Well, my friend looks pretty bored." Isaac had slipped off
into the study and returned with a stack of books. He was now buried in a copy of Astronomy Through the Ages. "I'd better go,
Mom." Another sigh.
"Of course. Cheerio, sweet pea."
"Goodbye, silly sausage."
"Charlotte!"
"Sorry, Mother. Goodbye." There was a faint click and then the dial tone. With a groan, Charlotte slammed the phone down
onto the hook and went back into the den. "I can't leave you alone for a second!" Isaac shut the book, using his finger as a
marker.
"It didn't look like you would be done any time soon, so I took the liberty of--"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go on and read." She plopped down beside him. Isaac blinked.
"Oh. Thank you." Then he put his nose back between the pages.
Charlotte leaned over his shoulder, pointing at a picture on the page.
"That's Leo. The lion. See? It looks like a big 'p'."
"Mm hm. And that one?"
"That's the Northern Cross." Isaac squinted at the constellations mapped in the book.
"Are you certain? It doesn't look like a cross."
"Yeah, I know. Weird, huh?" Charlotte peered at the book, then turned and looked out the window. It was suddenly as if there
was no danger, as if this man was a friend instead of a stranger. As if there wasn't a feeling of impending evil in her chest.
"Ow! What's this?" She was startled by Isaac's outburst. Charlotte took the box from him quickly.
"Oh, nothing. Just a present from someone far away." He set the book aside and tilted his head slightly.
"May I see?" She bit her lip and opened it, taking out the necklace. She'd nearly forgotten about it. Charlotte fingered the
elegant chain.
"I guess you could look at it." Isaac held out his hand and she handed it over. He examined it carefully.
"It's quite lovely."
"Yeah." Charlotte watched him inspect it, then ventured, "You can have it if you want." He looked up.
"Are you sure you'd want to do that?" She stared at the dainty cross, then nodded.
"Yes. I want you to have it. I really don't need it." Isaac chuckled lightly.
"Do you think it would match my shoes?" Charlotte rolled her eyes.
"Just keep it in your pocket, then." She swallowed, glancing out the window. "Think of it as a... well, something to show you
that... that I trust you." She could see Isaac out of the corner of her eye. He was watching her.
"Are you certain? You're certain you trust me?" She stared outside, then sighed in frustration.
"No, no I'm not. But take the damn thing anyway." Isaac closed his hand over the trinket.
"As you wish, Lady O'Farland."
The dryer buzzed loudly.
"Well, I guess you'd better be going." Isaac continued to watch her, then began putting on his boots.
"I imagine you're correct." Charlotte got up and fetched his jacket from the laundry room. She brought it back out as he stood
up. Isaac reached out to take the coat, but she held on to it.
"Who's going to die, Isaac? Who's going to die?" He frowned slightly, tugging at it.
"I told you, I don't know. If I knew, Lady O'Farland, I'd tell you." Charlotte resisted a moment, then let the jacket go with a sigh.
"You're right." Isaac nodded, pulling the hood over his hair.
"Of course I am." He gave a rather over-elaborate bow. "'Till we meet again, Lady O'Farland." That being said, he turned and
opened the door.
"Goodbye, Isaac." The door banged closed. Charlotte rubbed her arms, shivering, and watched the figure disappear down the
driveway. She waited until he reached the road before rotating the lock. Then, feeling awfully cold and wet, she hurried to the
bathroom to take a shower.