Dean's Side of the Story
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Chapter 8
Being with the family and discussing murder was getting stressful, so Dean decided to lead Amanda out to the backyard of the Wellington's mansion.
Since Amanda had never seen the backyard in the daytime, she looked around in awe. The sprawling backyard was more like a private retreat. The entire area was filled with blooming flowers of all colors surrounding the manicured lawn. Various stoned paths led to lush gardens. Off to the distance and in contrast to the dense greenery stood a whimsical, white Victorian gazebo. It was screened on all sides with white latticework, and topped with a slanting green roof.
"This is all so very lovely," she revered, as she gazed about.
"It is, isn't it? This is Mother's private getaway, complete with that gazebo over there," Dean explained, "it's where she likes to take her afternoon tea."
But Amanda had become distracted. She was staring off in a different direction, at the white wooden bench shrouded underneath the huge shaded tree.
A perfect place to rendezvous with an enigmatic spy in the early morning hours, she ached.
"Amanda?" Dean called her back to reality, "Did you hear what I just said?"
"What? Oh! So sorry, Dean! I was just thinking about how charming that solitary bench is over there with the overhanging tree...so, um, what kind of tree is that?"
"Impressive, isn't it? That's our family Oaktree," Dean proudly explained, "It's special to us because it's the oldest and tallest tree on our estate. Why the interest?"
Amanda tried to sound casual, "No special reason, really. It just looks so imposing and sturdy, yet so mysteriously enticing at the same time."
Much like Lee.
Dean was already losing interest, "I never thought of it that way, but I suppose. Come on, let me show you the rest of the area," he remarked, as he led her away.
She reluctantly turned away as they continued their stroll around the grounds.
They had walked a while in silence before Amanda spoke out again.
"Thank you, Dean, for this short walk. I needed to get away from the house. It's just so awful what happened to your maid."
"It is," Dean agreed, 'And unfortunately, Eunice has no family to speak of. Nor friends either. But, of course, she wouldn't; not with that cold personality of hers."
Amanda felt one should never speak ill of the dead, "Well, Eunice did seem very efficient as a maid, and...she was also a very good cook. I'm sure she thought highly of your family, too, being that she had been in service for so many years."
"Well, someone didn't think highly of her," Dean bitterly stated, and then added, "but maybe we should just put the whole murder thing out of our minds and talk about other things."
Amanda couldn't believe how detached Dean sounded.
"My gosh, Dean, you've known Eunice for years! Aren't you terribly sad that she's gone? And aren't you curious as to why she was killed?"
"Of course I'm sad, Amanda. Especially since she was senselessly murdered. But as to why she was killed, I don't want to think about it. And if I'm being totally truthful here, I'm actually more upset than sad over this Eunice thing."
"Upset? But why would you be upset?"
Dean made a face, "Because of Stetson, of course. He has the nerve to accuse someone in my family of being a killer. Preposterous! He's got it all wrong."
"You can't blame him for that," she defended him, "After all, who else could it be?"
"Who knows? Maybe an unexpected thief. Or Isabella. Or the gardener."
"But according to the house cameras," Amanda reasoned, "no one from the outside had entered the premises in the early morning hours."
Maybe the security cameras were fixed so they wouldn't record," Dean theorized, "It has to be someone from the outside; it couldn't be my family. But, unfortunately, Big-Shot Stetson won't even look at other possibilities, and that's the frustrating part. Just because he used to be in Secret Service doesn't mean he's competent for this type of investigation."
"Well, I think he's up to the job," Amanda shot back, "he's very determined plus he has a very sharp mind!"
Dean scowled, "That's pretty specific, being that you've only met him two days ago."
Oh.
She had to think fast, "I think it's pretty obvious he's competent considering...how other people have confidence in him! Your mother wholeheartedly approves of him for the job, and she's a very smart cookie! And... and your siblings seem to back him up as well, and even the Police Chief has given him full responsibility! All of them have given credence to his investigative capabilities!"
Dean snorted, "So you say, but think about this: Stetson has no resources; no expert to help him. I don't see how he'll be able to find this killer on his own."
Amanda paused and then inserted, "Welllll, I was thinking...that perhaps I could help Agent Stetson with the investigation!"
Dean had suddenly stopped walking.
"You?" he asked with complete disbelief.
She was forced to stop as well and placed her hands on her hips, "Yes, me. Why not me?"
They now faced one another with Amanda giving him a challenging stare.
"Amanda, you do realize that this is a murder investigation, don't you? How could you, a mother and housewife from the suburbs of Arlington, possibly help in finding a cold-blooded killer?"
"I've always been a quick study," Amanda defended herself, "and I listen to directions well...kind of..." she weakly ended.
Dean didn't look happy, "But why would you want to help, anyway?"
"Because we need to get to the bottom of this," Amanda stated with certainty.
Dean peered closely at her, "Are you sure that's the only reason why you want to help Stetson?"
Amanda could feel the warmth coming to her cheeks as she diverted the question, "You know how I always want to help in any way I can!"
Dean momentarily shut his eyes in frustration and then opened them, "Amanda, don't get involved."
"Is that an order?" she dared him.
"It's for your own good," he reasonably stated, "You'll only get in the way of the investigation."
"I'll get in the way? For your information, Dean," Amanda spoke quickly as she lectured, "You're not the only one who's said that! Other people have told me not to get involved, that I'll just make a mess of things, but like you, they were wrong! You know why? Because two ships should not just pass through the night! And believe me, I'm not just passing through...and, and I'm not afraid of any storms that might come my way, either! I can weather that and help the Captain steer the ship to calm waters!"
Dean looked puzzled, "I have no idea what you've just said."
"Yeah, well, I got lost in the middle, myself!" Amanda truthfully stated, "So let me put it another way. If I were a ship, I may be safe in the harbor, but that's not what I'm built for!"
She proudly held her head high.
"I've never known you to use ship metaphors before, but that's funny," Dean commented.
Amanda was exasperated, "That's what you considered funny when I couldn't have been more serious?"
"You see what I mean?" Dean pointed out, "All this talk of solving a murder is useless. Amanda, I don't want to argue with you."
It was obvious to her that she was getting nowhere with Dean.
Amanda's sensibility kicked in and she backed down as well, "I don't want to argue with you, either, Dean."
As they faced each other, Dean grasped her hands.
"I have to admit, Amanda, I am a little jealous of Stetson. He's got looks, smarts, and charm. But I know exactly the kind of guy he is, and you're an innocent to his sort. And getting involved in a murder investigation...I don't see how you can help, either."
"First off, Dean," Amanda asserted, trying to keep her voice steady, "I'm dating you, not him. And second off, I think I would be the ideal person to help him with the investigation. Since we're all confined to the manor anyway, it would be so easy for me to go around and ask questions. You know how good I am at asking people questions and getting them to open up! I could find out how the others felt about Eunice, and maybe find a motive, or I could help Agent Stetson see that none of your family members could be the murderer. Somewhere in there, is a third off, but I didn't know where to insert it!"
Dean thinned his lips, "Sounds like you've made up your mind."
Amanda lifted her head, "Maybe I have."
He heaved a sigh, "Actually, there's another reason why I don't want you involved."
She tilted her head, "Oh? Why's that?"
Dean slightly hesitated as he looked forlornly into her eyes, "It's just that...we haven't had a lot of time alone together."
That was unexpected.
And yet, it was the truth.
Amanda guiltily nodded and looked down, "You're right about that."
He peered at her, "So, you're not mad at me anymore, are you?"
She looked up and shook her head, "No. Well, maybe a little. I just think...I can help with the investigation and find time to be with you, too."
"Rather doubtful," Dean stated, "I'm sorry, Amanda. I don't mean to upset you. Especially since you've been a really good sport in dealing with my family."
"Ohhhh, they're really not that bad, Dean," she diplomatically stated.
"You don't have to be nice on my account, Amanda. I know my family is frustrating to deal with."
She gave her familiar head jerk, "Whose family isn't?"
He leaned in, "Well, I have a secret to tell you."
"Oh? I hope it's a good secret."
He half-smiled, "It's is, and it happened late last night."
"What is it?"
"Mother had earlier taken me aside privately and...she approves of you, Amanda. She likes you."
Amanda's eyes widened, "She does?"
"Yes. She says you make me smile...and you do make me smile," he stated with conviction.
Amanda teased, "Wellll, I do try and stay optimistic. After all, in my experience with life, smiling brings on friends, while frowning brings on wrinkles!"
She thought she was being clever, but it didn't even elicit a slight grin from Dean.
"That's a strange saying," he analyzed, before continuing on, "But the point I'm trying to make, Amanda, is that my mother likes you and it's obvious that Dotty likes me, so…" he paused.
She leaned in, "so...?"
Dean patiently explained, "...our mothers obviously think we belong together, and I think so, too. We've never said the words, but I will now. I love you, Amanda. You must know that," he stated, as he brushed some hair strands from her face, "and I need to know if you feel the same way about me."
Amanda's head was spinning at the awkwardness of it all, "Gosh, Dean, I don't think this is the time or place to be discussing this."
One of Dean's brows lifted, "That's not an answer."
Amanda would not lie, "Well, o-kay, then. I'm...in l-like with you, Dean, and, I'm very fond of you, too."
He looked disappointed, "So, emotionally, we're not on the same page."
Amanda didn't know if she would ever be on that page, "Perhaps I need more time."
"Or..." Dean suggested, "perhaps I can convince you, otherwise."
He stepped closer to her until she could feel the heat radiating from him.
His arms went around her and at the same time, he was pulling her closer to him.
She knew he was going to kiss her.
Their lips met.
And Amanda felt...
...her stomach slightly twist.
And she internally panicked.
Amanda tried to return his kiss but it felt forced and desperate.
And then, thankfully, it was over and they separated.
Then he grasped her hands again.
"Amanda, you're my special girl," he quietly stated, "and I'm so glad you're here with me."
Aww.
Her heart pinged at his sincerity.
He really was a gentle man.
And he did care about her.
Perhaps excitement and passion were overrated, she sadly internalized.
Her smile was a bit forced, "I'm glad I'm here with you, too, Dean."
And as she finished the sentence, she felt her stomach twist all the way around.
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