A/N: I want to thank you for reading and reviewing, it really does motivate me! I also wanted to let you know that there will be five chapters in part one of this story. I am not sure yet how many chapters part 2 will have. Hope you folks enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it.
A Crooked Road
Mary Margaret Blanchard—soon to be Nolan—swirled around in her white dress, overcome with emotion. It was her wedding day. She'd been waiting so long, and now it was here.
David had proposed to her six months ago. It'd been right before he had to go on a business trip. He'd been so sorry, and he had said he would make it up to her. Then he was on one knee, and the rest was history that led to this moment. Mary Margaret slowly pulled the veil over her face, unable to stop the shivers from running up her spine.
Ruby knocked on the dressing room door, then walked in. She was 3 months pregnant, but she was barely showing at all, so the bridesmaid dress fit her well. It was a light blue color, with puffed sleeves.
"Are you okay, Mary Margaret?" Ruby asked, looking nervous herself.
"Yes. This is the happiest, most gut-wrenching day of my life. I'll be fine," Mary Margaret laughed.
"You made the right choice. David is the gentlest man I've ever met."
"You're right. I know we'll be happy."
Ruby nodded, a sadness overtaking her. "I just wish you didn't have to go back to Boston. Why can't you stay here? We can raise our children together."
Mary Margaret smiled. "As tempting as that is…our home is Boston."
Ruby hugged her. "I know." After a long moment, she pulled back, determined not to cry. "Now, let's get you married!"
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Regina didn't know how to proceed. Candy was beside her, visibly trembling. She placed her hand on hers, trying to calm her.
They were in the courthouse, and Candy was the sole witness in the case against Mr. Gold. Sheriff Humbert and Deputy Swan were sitting in one of the benches, as they were the officers who brought Eddie Tyler, the man who claimed that he'd been paid the set the fire, to justice. He had been sent to the state penitentiary. Now, since Mr. Gold was implicated, and he was such a powerful man, few were brave enough to stand against him in trial.
Regina was infinitely proud of Candy for being brave enough, even though she looked like she was about to faint. Judge Wallis was standing in the front of the room, at the podium. He had a bushy mustache and beard; he looked harmless enough. Regina whispered this to her young companion, and this helped ease her a little bit.
Soon, Candy was called to the witness stand. Not many people were in the courtroom that day, either out of fear of Mr. Gold or indifference, Regina didn't know.
"So, Miss Fisher, can you tell me what Mr. Gold said to you on the night of June 23?" Judge Wallis asked politely.
Candy nodded. "Of course, sir. He got rather drunk that night, and began bragging to me about how he'd paid Mr. Tyler to set the fire at the whorehouse. He didn't say why."
"Did he say anything else?"
Candy thought for a moment. "He started to cry, and called me Belle, and said that he missed me."
Regina's back got straighter. She'd heard the story before, but hearing Candy speak it out in a courtroom—a half empty one, but still—it gave her chills. She didn't want to have to drag that skeleton out of her closet.
In that moment, a realization hit her like a tidal wave.
That's why Elias tried to burn her whorehouse down. He wanted to kill her for telling Belle to stay away from him. Belle had fled town because of Regina's advice. Regina gripped the bench to keep her from having a panic attack.
No one noticed, however, and the judge kept asking Candy questions.
Mr. Gold got up at one point. "How can you trust the word of a whore over that of a respectable businessman such as myself?"
Regina wanted to get up yell choice words she almost never said right in Gold's face. She wanted to make him cringe and whimper in fear. She stood up, ready to do just that.
But Emma beat her to it. She grabbed Gold by the lapel of his expensive suit.
"You will treat the lady with respect, or so help me I will take you out back and show you how a 'lady' can kick your skinny ass down the street," Emma growled, deep and low, and Regina was quite impressed. She sat back down, giving Emma a smirk from across the room. Emma caught it, and smiled back.
They'd nail this man. One way or another, Gold would be caught.
The judge didn't hide a chuckle at Emma's display of aggression, and went back to questioning Candy. "Miss Fisher, was Mr. Gold the only one intoxicated when he told you all these things?"
"Yes sir."
"Can someone attest to your sobriety?"
"Yes, my employer, Regina, can. She doesn't let us drink during our shifts, probably because of things like this."
Judge Wallis nodded. "Gold, your sentence is 2 weeks in lock-up, and a fee of $500, that you will pay Miss Mills to pay for the damage you caused."
Mr. Gold did not look happy. Regina couldn't be more ecstatic about that.
Still, this was just a slap on the wrist for Gold. Regina knew he wouldn't stop until she was dead.
Sheriff Humbert grabbed Gold, slapped some cuffs on him, and pulled him, none too gently, out of his seat. He pushed him out the door, and down the street. Emma stayed behind, her legs stretched out in opposite directions. Regina cringed. Would it kill the woman to sit like a lady?
Candy came down from the witness stand, looking rather proud of herself. Regina smiled her as she passed, patting her on the shoulder. Judge Wallis soon left, bidding them both goodbye.
Regina just sat there, pondering how to escape Mr. Gold's wrath. She was sure it was a rhetorical question; she could run to the ends of the earth, but Gold would never forget her, or what she did to him. She wondered if giving herself up would be the best thing for everyone. In two weeks, Gold would get out of jail. He'd conjure another complicated scheme to ensure her death. The man was insane. But if she just let him kill her, then things would be better. Mr. Gold would get convicted, locked up for life. The town of Boston would be safe from him and—
"Hi."
Regina looked up, her brown eyes locking onto green ones. She narrowed hers, looking away. "Hello, Deputy Swan."
"Don't sound so enthusiastic, now," Emma teased. "I just wanted to see how you're holding up. I mean, Gold targeted you specifically. Do you know why he'd—"
"Thank you for your concern, Deputy, but I have no idea why that insane businessman would try to burn down my brothel. He obviously needs a psychological evaluation."
Emma smirked. "Yeah, I could have told you that. It just seems like his target was deliberate, like he really has a problem with you."
Regina stiffened. She didn't want to tell the deputy what Mr. Gold's true motivations were. But…maybe having a friend…NO. Miss Swan was not her friend.
"Well, perhaps you should question him about it. I really must be going, it's Friday, my busiest night. Good evening." Regina stood up, smoothed her skirt, and strolled out. The warm summer air was fresh, clean, and Regina breathed it in slowly. She'd have to stop worrying about Gold. After his two weeks were up, then she'd figure out what to do.
But for now, she had a business to run.
She walked down the cobblestone street, instead of the boardwalk, so she could cut diagonally across town. She reached her brothel just as the sun dipped under the horizon. Men usually started pouring in around 8 o'clock. She smiled at Melissa as she entered, hanging up her hat on the hook closest to the door. She went around the room, lighting the candles that gave off various scents. They set the perfect mood. When the candles were all lit, giving the main room an ethereal glow, Regina sat at the bar and waited for customers.
On an average night, she had 10 girls on duty, but since it was Friday, she had 12. Around 8, men started coming in, most of them in small groups. Sometimes, Regina would see twitchy virgins come in, and she'd smirk and make sure they were well taken care of, with someone who knew what she was doing.
Like Melissa. Melissa was kind, generous, and sweet, and Regina knew that that attitude leaked into the bedroom. Candy was more aggressive, Beatrice was shy, and Rebecca, well, Rebecca could fake anything. All of these qualities could be matched to different people, and were useful in different situations. Because of her choice in profession, Regina had become good at reading people. She had an understanding of the part of human nature that most people were ashamed of: sex.
Regina crossed one leg over the other, happy to see more men come filtering in. She turned to the bartender she'd hired and told him to get her a glass of red wine. A few moments later, she was sipping demurely on her glass.
She turned to the door, her eyes catching a shock of curly blond hair. She placed her drink down on the counter harder than she'd intended. She didn't want to deal with the woman tonight. Didn't she know when to leave her alone?
Regina got up, hoping she could sneak into one of the back rooms before Emma would notice. She made it three steps when she felt a hand on her arm. Her hand felt soft against her skin. She'd imagined Emma's hands would be calloused.
"Unhand me, Deputy," she ordered, without turning. "I've committed no crime."
Emma pulled her elbow slightly, turning her so Regina was facing her. "Relax, I'm not here to arrest anyone. It's just been a slow night, and Leroy and Graham's fighting was getting on my nerves, so…
"So you thought you'd come to a whore house to pass the time?" Regina smirked. "Forgive me, but that argument is rather weak."
Emma huffed. "Fine. Look, I need to talk to you about Gold. You may joke about it—"
"Do I look like the joking type, Miss Swan?"
"No. But just listen to me. He's planning something—"
"I'm not sure you're familiar with the rules of a brothel, so let me enlighten you: if you wish to spend the night with one of my girls, you're going to have to pay me."
Emma rolled her eyes. "Fine." She placed some coins in Regina's hand, ones that she'd been loath to part with, but doing her job—protecting Regina—no, the town—was worth it.
Regina counted the coins while Emma stomped her foot in impatience. Satisfied, the brunette looked up at the former bounty hunter.
"Very well. Which girl do you want?"
"You."
Regina's eyes snapped up to Miss Swan's, fixing them with a surprised look, then a glare. "You can't be serious."
"As serious as cancer. I need to talk to you, and if this is the only way to do it, then fine. Now, I believe you owe me the rest of the night." Emma rocked back on her heels, unable to hide the smirk on her face.
Regina stepped closer to Emma, and smirked right back. She slowly took off her gloves, licking her lips as she did so. "You can't afford me."
"I can pay it in installments…" Emma trailed off. Regina's breath was hitting her face. Instinctively, Emma stepped back. "I just want to talk, that's all."
"Really?" Regina asked. "Just talk?"
"Yes." Emma said, but her voice cracked. Regina smiled to herself.
"Very well, Miss Swan." Regina took her hand, leading her upstairs.
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Regina opened room # 205 with a key from a bunch she'd pulled out of her handbag. She let Emma go in first, noticing how Emma hurried past her, like she didn't want to be close to her for too long. Emma's eyes wandered to the bed first, but she stayed as far away from it as possible. Emma walked to one of the couches in the corner, and Regina followed. They sat down. Regina enjoyed feeling the soft leather massage her tired thighs. These couches had certainly been a good investment.
"So…" Emma reached into her satchel and pulled out a notepad. How cute. "Does Gold have any reason to hate you?"
"Yes. We are both fledgling businesspeople in this town. It's natural for there to be a little…competition between us." Regina answered easily.
"And the competition would get so heated, that he'd burn your fucking property?"
"How would I know? As I said before, Deputy Swan, the man is insane."
"You're hiding something."
"So are you."
Emma frowned, pulling her head back a little. "What? No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are. Everyone is hiding something. It's human nature. But right now, in this moment? You're hiding a sublimated attraction to me, as well as some sexual desire. I really had no idea you liked women, dear. But I suppose it shouldn't come as that big of a surprise."
Emma spluttered for a few seconds.
"I—I'm not attracted to you—you're just self-centered, and you think the world revolves around you...you're crazy." Emma spit out the word vomit, but Regina was in no way convinced.
"Whatever you say. Now, do you have any more questions for me?"
"Uh, no, I think we're done." Emma stood up, almost knocking the couch over as she did so. She was out of the room in a blink of eye, and Regina leaned back, pleased with herself.
That was too easy.
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She'd always light a candle late at night, when she took baths. She had a maple syrup scented one, and she'd fill her bathtub up to the brim in bubbles. She had indoor plumbing, so she didn't have lug a tub out to the well to bathe.
And when she was alone, with her thoughts, the wonderful scent of maple engulfing her, she'd close her eyes tight, spread her hands across her thighs, and picture strong fledgling muscles flexing. She'd picture soft, but solid abs, and beautiful legs and arms. All of the people in her fantasies were faceless, simply there to please her with their physical beauty, nothing more. Regina slowly grazed her center with her finger, brushing harder against the sensitive skin. She bit her lip, feeling the pleasure flow out from her core.
A flash of an image came to her—like a bolt of lightning. She was cradled in muscular arms, carried bridal style. She looked in the person's face—and it was Emma.
When Emma had saved her from the fire, for the first few seconds, that's how Emma had carried her. Like a bride.
Regina shifted in the tub, not liking what was happening. She was the one who was supposed to be fucking with Emma's head, not the other way around.
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It was getting dark out. Emma had been walking around Boston for the past two hours, trying to process what the hell had gone on in the whorehouse. Regina had…flirted with her. Emma had spent five dollars of her well-earned money on her, and got no helpful information whatsoever.
Regina had been deflecting. She'd obviously hoped to distract the blond, or scare her away. Well, the good news was, the first goal hadn't been accomplished. Emma was still dead set on making sure Gold never hurt anyone again. She had two weeks to bring enough evidence to Judge Wallis' attention that would make it impossible for Gold to be a free man. Emma had a feeling that he was planning something. That man gave her the willies. She stopped by a saloon in the south of town for a drink, then made her way to the Sheriff's office. Leroy had his head leaned back, snoring loudly in a chair, with his hat covering his face. Emma clenched her fists, then used one to punch the other deputy in the back of the neck.
Leroy snapped his eyes open, his head falling forward. "What the hell?"
"Bang, you're dead." Emma said. "Really, Leroy, we've got a fucking arsonist in the cell 10 feet from you. He's a fucking snake; I bet if he wanted, you'd be dead. Stay awake."
Leroy stretched his arms wide. "Okay, I will. It's just that Margie's got me doing chores, and it tires me out."
Emma ignored him, her eyes zeroing in on Gold. She pulled a chair out from one of the tables, and turned it so the back of the chair was about 2 feet from Gold's cell. She sat on it, resting her arms on the back.
"You wanna tell me why the fuck you're targeting Regina Mills?"
"She sent something of mine away. I'll never get it back, and it's her fault," Gold replied.
Emma raised her eyebrows. That had been easier than expected. "Okay, well, why can't you just buy another one? You're a rich guy."
"This something was a person. A person very near and dear to me."
"Oh. Sorry, but you can't own people," Emma said. "If this person left, it was of their own free will, and you can't blame Regina for that. So leave her alone."
"I'm afraid that ship has sailed. Whether or not I get out of here, Regina will die."
Emma glared at the man, who had the audacity to appear so calm, so indifferent. "You are one fucked up asshole." She pushed off the chair, wishing she could throw it against the bars, for no other reason than to just scare the man.
Emma pushed down the desire to throttle Gold through the bars of the cell. If she wanted to stop him, she'd have to play by the book. At least now, she knew that Gold had someone on the outside—someone who was going to kill Regina.
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Emma didn't get any sleep the next three nights, because she was taking over night duty. Leroy kept making excuses as to why he was sleeping on the job, and Emma got tired of it. She had suggested to Graham that they look for some more deputies, and the Sheriff had nodded and said he'd see what he could do. But in the meantime, Emma really was the only competent person in his task force, so all the hard work fell to her.
On Saturday, she'd had to break up a fight between two guys who claimed that the other one had stolen their horse. It didn't help that their horses looked identical. That had taken a while to sort out. Emma finally just said they should share both horses if it was that important to them, and that solved everything.
It was funny how a simple solution could be used to solve a seemingly complicated, convoluted problem.
On Sunday, Emma showed up for work to find Graham with two new deputies—two kids who couldn't be older than 20.
She'd pulled Graham aside discreetly. "What the hell, Graham? When I said 'hire some deputies,' I didn't mean kids fresh out of school."
"They're not, they haven't gone to school."
Emma didn't find that particularly reassuring.
"They're farm boys, Bert and Kevin, from the Jackson ranch. They're really fast learners."
Emma had to put up with the brothers' annoying banter all day, all the while trying to come up with a plan on what to do about Gold.
On Monday morning, Emma walked into the office, sleep deprived and in need of coffee. The only coffee at the station was the black sludge kind that Graham bought in bulk at the grocer because it was cheaper, and it was cold and runny when Emma showed up. She groaned, looking at the mud-like substance in her cup.
"I've never been a fan of coffee. Tea has always been more my taste."
Emma whirled around at the sound of Gold's voice. "You know what? I'm making a rule. If you're not going to talk about who the hell you got to agree to kill Regina for you, then just shut up. If I hear one word not related to that, I might just take this coffee and pour it down your pants. Are we clear?"
Mr. Gold gave a creepy grin. "Clear as crystal."
"Good." At that moment, Bert and Kevin walked into the station, eyes groggy. Emma turned to them.
"Okay, boys, today, you're going to be making rounds. That means, walking around town, making sure no one's causing trouble. If you see something going on, do not try to take care of it yourselves. Come over here and get me or Sheriff Graham."
The boys nodded, rolled up their sleeves and stepped back into the sunshine.
Four days later, on Friday night, Bert dragged Kevin to the whorehouse, claiming that it was to gather more information about what Gold might be planning. Kevin saw right through that.
Kevin Jackson was nothing like his brother. For one, he wasn't a smooth talker with the ladies, and he was a shy, understated young man. His brother was the opposite, loud, rambunctious, and not afraid to get into trouble. It was kind of interesting how he got the job at the Sheriff's office.
Both of them needed the money. Kevin hoped to save enough so he'd be able to go to college; he had his sights set on Cambridge. He didn't really know what he wanted his career to be in the long-term, but he figured a little book learning wouldn't hurt him. He wasn't sure what Bert was going to do with his new flow of income. Probably spend it on girls. Kevin shuddered to think what would happen when their father died, and Bert inherited the farm.
Kevin stood outside of the whorehouse, really uncomfortable. His brother would probably call him a chicken. Sure enough, his 'older' brother started flapping his arms like wings and making a clucking noise.
Kevin rolled up his sleeves, ready to get physical. He didn't have a chance, however, because his brother slipped into the brothel with a huge grin on his face.
Kevin grumbled, reluctantly following Bert. If they got fired for this, he'd never forgive him.
Kevin had never been in a place like this. He'd never admit it to anyone, but he was still a virgin. A 20 year old virgin. That wasn't something to brag about. But if he was going to lose it, he didn't really want it to be with a hooker. To him, sex meant something.
He blinked inside the dimly lit room, his eyes falling on his brother, who was at the bar, downing a whiskey. He had three girls around him, looking at him like he was the center of the universe. Kevin felt a pang of jealousy that he'd felt since they were kids, but he pushed it down, tearing his eyes away from Bert. He debated going back outside and just waiting for his dumbass brother to come out, so he could take him home.
"Can I help you?" A voice behind him snapped him out of his thoughts.
He turned to see Regina Mills, the owner of the brothel, addressing him. He'd heard she was beautiful. His brother had been in here before, and went on and on about how he'd pay anything for a night with her. He said her eyes were like diamonds, and all this other jargon that Kevin had tuned out. So he wasn't prepared to see such a drop-dead gorgeous woman. He actually gasped, then blushed, trying to find words to say. Regina was wearing a black silk dress, with gloves that reached her elbows. The corset she was wearing made her bosoms flow out, and Kevin blinked, forcing his eyes up eight inches to meet hers.
"Um, no ma'am, I'm just here to make sure my brother behaves himself. He's my older brother, believe it or not." Kevin pointed to his brother.
Regina followed the trajectory of his finger and her eyes fell on Bert. His red hair was getting smoothed by one of the girls, and it made Kevin sick. Regina nodded. "I see. How old is he?'
"Twenty-three."
"And how old are you?"
"Twenty."
Regina fixed him with a scrutinizing look. "Did Deputy Swan send you here?"
Kevin was temporarily blind-sighted by the question. "Er…no ma'am. How did you know we worked at the sheriff's station?"
"Well, even though Boston is a growing town, word does get around." The vague answer was classy, cool, just like the woman who delivered it.
"I promise, this was not her idea. My brother is just a horny devil." Kevin smirked.
"Well, maybe he's not the only one who can have fun tonight," Regina answered, with a twinkle in her eye.
Kevin didn't like this sudden turn in the conversation. "Uh, ma'am, I'm not here for that. No offense."
Regina smiled beatifically. "None taken, young man. But may I say, you shouldn't have to watch that." Regina gestured to his brother, who was now kissing one of the hookers. "Not when you are obviously ten times the man he is."
Kevin blinked. That was the best compliment he'd ever gotten in his life. This woman was good.
"I—ma'am, please…"
"Candy!" Regina called out, and Kevin cringed. That is, until he saw the girl.
She was not what he expected. She was wearing a pink corset, and red skirt, but she somehow managed to make it look modest. Her hair fell in brown ringlets around her face. She looked innocent, and that surprised him.
"Hi," Candy said.
"Um…hello."
Regina smiled, then excused herself.
"Would you like to go somewhere to talk?" Candy smiled.
"Sure."
Candy led him to a back room, and she sat down on one of the couches. He awkwardly sat down next to her.
"You have nothing to be nervous about. I really did just mean talk. We don't have to do anything else, if you don't want to," Candy said sweetly, and Kevin relaxed.
"Okay. I'm sorry, it's just my first time in a place like this, and I thought—"
"You thought, because we're hookers, all we ever think about is sex." Candy finished. "That we don't have goals and aspirations, just like anyone else?"
Kevin shook his head violently. "No, of course not! I just—"
"It's okay. I'm used to it. I just hope you'll get to know me, before you jump to conclusions about who I am." Candy fixed him with a sad smile, and her blue eyes bored into his.
"I'm terribly sorry," Kevin said. "I just…had no idea what to expect."
Candy nodded. "Like I said, it's fine."
At that moment, a prostitute rushed into the room, saw them, then turned around and walked out. Kevin frowned.
"Who was that?"
"That was Rebecca," Candy answered slowly. "She's been acting weird lately…I don't know what's up with her. She's been sassier than usual with Mistress Regina."
"Oh…why? Did Regina do something to her?"
Candy shook her head. "Not that I know of."
For a farm boy who'd never gone to school, Kevin was smart. The wheels in his head began to turn.
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Emma lay awake, unable to shut off the thoughts coursing through her brain. Gold had said that, whether or not he got out of jail, Regina would die. That meant, of course, that someone else was going to kill him. She just had no idea when, or who. Maybe they'd wait until Gold was released, maybe they'd sneak into Regina's house and kill her tonight. Emma hated the uncertainty of it all.
She grumbled, rolling over. She punched her pillow to soften it, and sank back onto it. She finally fell into an uncomfortable, tortured sleep.
She woke at 7 am, not well rested at all, and reluctantly pulled herself out of bed. The clock was ticking. July 4th had come and gone; now it was July 10th...Gold would be released on the 16th. Emma rubbed her eyes. 6 more days.
She walked over to her closet and picked up her brown leather breeches. She threw on a blue shirt, and her white hat. She tied her hair in a ponytail, and glanced at her reflection. The bags under her eyes made her look like a raccoon—she hoped Regina wouldn't see her like this. She'd just make fun of her, and ask her why she hadn't been taking proper care of herself. The ironic part was, Regina was the reason she'd been losing sleep. Emma washed her face quickly, then stepped out of her room.
She said 'good morning' to Mrs. Jenkins, and another lodger, George Vaughn, and walked out to the barn. Leroy had been sleeping there, because Mrs. Jenkins didn't have a spare room.
"Leroy! Rise and shine," Emma yelled.
She saw a pile of hay move, then a bearded face popped out of it. "But it's Saturday. Why do I have to get up?"
"Work. You're one of the deputies, remember? We don't get a break on the weekends, buddy."
Leroy sniffed. "Right. I'll have to stay home today. I think I'm coming down with a cold." He coughed onto his hand.
Emma rolled her eyes. "You know, I could tell Mrs. Jenkins that you're slacking off. I'm sure she'd be happy to kick you out."
That got Leroy's attention. "You wouldn't."
"You want to bet on that?"
"Fine…just give me five minutes to clean up. I really need to get this hay out of my butt crack."
Emma cringed, turning away to saddle up Mo.
Leroy and she arrived at the Sheriff's station a half-an-hour later. It was still early, so not many people were out on the streets. Emma strolled into the building, and almost ran into Kevin Jackson, who was talking animatedly to Graham about something.
"You have to believe me, I think one of Regina's prostitutes are planning something…" Kevin said.
That got Emma's attention. "What? What are you talking about?"
Kevin cleared his throat, reiterating what he'd already told Graham. "Last night, Bert and I went to Regina's brothel. I started talking with Candy, and she'd said that one of the prostitutes, Rebecca, had been meaner than usual to Regina. I know it's not much, but, someone Regina trusts would be in a position where it would be easier to kill her, if they wanted to. I just think we should question each of them and—"
"Hold on, kid," Emma held up her hand. "You're smart, I'll give you that, but Graham is the boss. You can't go around delegating orders." She turned to Graham.
He shrugged. "We've got no other leads,"
In the cell, Gold started to stir. Emma had almost forgotten he was there. "We probably shouldn't be talking about this where he can hear," she commented.
All of them walked outside.
Emma noticed Bert wasn't there. She suspected he was on a bender from last night.
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It was 8 am, the end of her girls' shifts. Regina was closing up, blowing out all the candles in the main room that had been burning all night long. She called for the maid, who began mopping up the wax from the floor. She went to the door to lock up, when it opened, and there stood every employee from the Sheriff's office, excluding the older Jackson boy.
Regina didn't bother to keep the glare off of her face. "What do you want?"
"Regina, we'd like to question your employees. We think one of them might be plotting to kill you," Graham answered.
"Do you have any proof?" Regina asked, keeping her cool exterior, even though she was inwardly panicking.
Kevin spoke up. She'd liked the young man; now, she realized, he might be too intelligent—and nosy—for his own good. "I was talking with Candy, and she said that Rebecca had been…more unmanageable lately. Did something happen that would make her want to do something to you?"
Regina rolled her eyes at him. "No. I highly doubt Rebecca would want to kill me just because I make her work weekends. Now, if you don't have any concrete reason for questioning my girls, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
Leroy wasn't really paying attention to Regina's rant. Instead, he looked past her into the building, and something caught his eye. Straight past Regina, the hallway that was usually dim, but now, due to the light flowing in from the windows, he could see a figure there. A girl. He nudged Emma, who saw the girl too. She didn't give it a second thought, and pushed past Regina roughly, almost knocking her over. The girl didn't have time to escape. Emma walked up to her, slowly.
"Hi…what's your name?" Emma asked, gently. Regina turned and walked over to Emma, ready to physically move her out of the brothel if necessary, but Emma just held up her hand, focusing on the girl.
"Rebecca," she said.
Emma remained calm. "Okay, Rebecca, do you know why Mr. Gold wants to kill Regina?"
Rebecca shook her head.
"Are you sure?"
"Miss Swan," Regina cut in, her voice dangerously low. "You need to leave, before my girls start getting too scared to show up for work. And if the law means anything at all to you clowns" –at this word, her eyes fell on Leroy, who stiffened—"you'd know that you need a warrant and probable cause to come in here and bully us."
Regina watched them go, then let Rebecca leave out the back. It was the end of her shift. She wondered why the girl had bothered sticking around.
Maybe—no, that couldn't be possible. She trusted her girls implicitly.
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Bert opened his mouth, feeling like someone laid a carpet in there. He needed water. He looked around—he was in his room. He didn't remember coming home; his brother must've taken him home after he'd gotten drunk. The sunlight was pouring in mercilessly, and it made his head pound in misery. He smiled when he remembered that he'd gone to the brothel. Flashes came to him. He'd been with a girl, a beautiful girl with raven black hair. She'd been so accommodating, and she made sure his glass stayed full of whiskey the whole night.
He rolled out of bed, wondering what time it was. He looked at the clock on the wall. Shit. 11:00. He was three hours late to work. Throwing open his closet door, he rushed to pull on some jeans, then reached for his belt, that he'd flung on the floor next to his door. He pulled it on, noticing it was lighter than usual. He frowned, looking at the holster. His gun was gone. Someone had taken it...he'd have to ask his brother about it later.
Unfortunately, he didn't think to tell him about it until Thursday, a day before Gold was to be released.
He and his brother had been making rounds, breaking up the occasional fight, killing the occasional stray dog. One particularly vicious dog had chased them three blocks because Bert didn't have his gun, and Kevin had emptied his clip on a couple of dogs earlier that day. Oh, the glamor of being a deputy, Bert mused as he caught his breath, leaning against a building in the alleyway.
"Why didn't you shoot that damn thing?" Kevin asked between pants of breath.
"I don't have my gun. I think someone took it the night that I went to the whorehouse."
"You're saying you only went one night this week? I find that hard to believe," Kevin scoffed.
Bert rolled his eyes. "You're just jealous because I actually get to use my dick for something other than taking a piss."
Kevin resisted the urge to punch his brother in the face. "Who do you think took it?"
"I don't know, probably the girl I was with."
"What was her name?"
"Don't remember. But I think she had black hair…and blue eyes." Bert smiled. "She was really pretty."
Kevin blanched. "Okay, we have to get to the station…now."
Bert frowned. "But we haven't finished rounds…"
"Just come on!"
Kevin started sprinting down the alley, taking a sharp turn to head back downtown.
Bert followed, grumbling to himself about having to run all damn day.
When they reached the Sheriff's office, Kevin flung the door open dramatically. "Graham? Emma?"
Emma came out of the back room, putting on her black wide rimmed hat. "What's wrong, Kevin? You look like you're about to throw up."
Kevin pulled her outside, so as not to be eavesdropped on by Gold. Behind bars or not, he didn't want the man knowing that they knew this piece of information.
"Rebecca—it—was—Rebecca…She—was—lying," Kevin said between breaths.
"Do you have proof?"
"She took my brother's gun. She's planning on framing him for Regina's murder."
"She said this to you?" Emma asked, clearly skeptical.
"We don't have time to argue. Where the hell is Sheriff Graham?"
"He's out—there was a bank robbery over on Elm. So, I'm your immediate superior, and I say, we should wait until we've got something solid."
Kevin grumbled, waving his hands animatedly. "By that time, Regina will be dead."
By this time, Bert had arrived at the office, breathing hard. "Why are we here?"
Emma looked from one brother to the other, amazed at how two people who claimed to be related were so different.
"Well, your brother tells me the whore you fucked six nights ago is planning on using your gun to kill Regina."
Bert's eyes almost popped out of his head. "Shit."
"Yeah," Emma agreed. "Shit."
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Graham got back from the bank at 6:00 pm, dragging in the two robbers he'd managed to catch. One was still at large, but Graham was exhausted. He desperately wanted to close up shop, go home and have a footbath, eat some dinner, read, and then go to sleep.
Once he set foot in the Sheriff's station, he knew that was a pipe dream. His three present deputies jumped on him the second he walked in the door. He locked the two men up, then walked to his office in the back of the buiiding. They followed him and all started talking at the same time, but Graham got the gist. He took his hat off, rubbing at his temples. Then he formulated a plan in his head. That was the reason he was sheriff; he was able to assess a situation calmly and come up with a course of action.
"Okay, we're going to pull a sting. Emma, you'll go to the whorehouse tonight, and see if you can sneak into Rebecca's room. Bert, you'll stay here, you've caused enough damage. Kevin, you and I will round up some men around town, then station ourselves outside the brothel. If we hear so much as a pin drop, we'll go inside. Emma, if anything happens, send Regina out to us, so she'll be safe. Got it?"
The three deputies nodded, each springing into action.
An hour later, Emma walked into the brothel, relieved to see that Regina was still alive and breathing. She'd never forgive herself if Regina died on her watch. Even if she was the most stubborn woman in Boston.
Emma sat at the bar, trying to relax. Regina didn't come bother her—she disappeared into a back room. Emma debated going back with her, to keep an eye on her, but her eyes fell on Rebecca, who was across the room pouring drinks for a group of men. Emma's eyes roamed over her outfit, trying to figure out where she'd hide the gun. Not in her bosoms; the gun might accidently go off while she'd bending over. That left two places—either the bustle, or strapped to her thigh with one of her garters. Emma guessed the latter as the black haired beauty plopped down on one of the men's laps.
Emma ordered a scotch; sticky situations were better with a little bit of alcohol in her system. Steeling her resolve, she stalked over to Rebecca's side of the room. This side of the room was better illuminated—the candles were fresh. Emma made to walk past the table Rebecca was at, but did a pretty bad imitation of a drunken stumble, maneuvering her hand so it landed on the ground beneath Rebecca's skirt. Making a show of trying to get up, she pushed her hand onto one of Rebecca's thighs, feeling for the gun.
Rebecca shrieked, standing up quickly. Before Emma could get up fully, the girl had her gun pointed at her head.
"Everyone else, leave," Rebecca ordered.
Every single man in the brothel did just that, probably too drunk to care that someone's life was in danger. Emma shut her eyes, waiting for death.
"Rebecca?" It was Regina's voice. Emma's eyes flew open in panic. "What's going on in here?"
"Regina! Go, now! Leave out the back!" Emma screamed.
It was all a blur. Rebecca turned from Emma to Regina, then started running after her. Emma scrambled up, running after the girl. She took three long strides, then dove for Rebecca, her arms out.
She managed to pull the girl down, but she somehow wriggled out of Emma's grasp. In a matter of seconds, she had both Emma and Regina at gunpoint.
"Brilliant plan, Miss Swan," Regina said out of the corner of her mouth. "Absolutely flawless."
"I didn't see you come up with anything better," Emma retorted.
Rebecca waving Bert's gun in their faces caught their attention. "Shut up, both of you. This is your last night on earth, and I don't think your last words want to be cheap insults."
"Actually…" Regina began, and Emma rolled her eyes.
"SHUT UP."
"Rebecca," Emma implored. "Once you fire that gun, the sheriff will come in here. He's just outside, with a posse. You sure you want to do this?"
"Yes. She deserves it," Rebecca said, tears in her eyes. "She killed Belle."
Emma felt Regina shift beside her. "I did not. Gold lied to you."
"But he showed me the gun you used…he even said your finger prints were on it…"
Emma just listened, not knowing what was going on, but hoping that neither of them were going to die that night.
"Dear, Belle's not dead…she's living in Ireland…I can show you some letters from her, if you like. She and I have been keeping up a correspondence." Emma turned to widen her eyes at the enigma of a woman. Someone was holding her at gunpoint, and she was talking like she was discussing the weather.
Rebecca bit her lip. Things were looking better, Emma thought. "Where are the letters?" Rebecca asked.
"In my house, in the dresser in my living room. The second drawer on the right." Emma looked on shocked as Regina handed her keys to the woman who was holding them hostage. What. The. Hell. "Please return them. Locksmiths are so expensive."
Rebecca seemed to be torn between fleeing the scene and blowing Regina to bits. Emma would be eternally grateful that she chose the one that ended up with them not dead.
When Rebecca was gone, Emma rushed to the front door, calling for Graham.
"Where is she?" Graham asked, five men with him.
"She went to Regina's house…something about proof with letters…I don't know." Emma answered.
Regina spoke up. "She needed to feel like she was in control. If I had called for you, she'd have gone crazy with the gun. Just wait; once she finds evidence that Belle is alive, she'll come back. I know her."
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Regina and Emma waited for hours for Rebecca to come back. Emma suggested they play cards to pass the time, but Regina gave her a I-just-smelled-something-terrible look, and it shut her up. She folded her arms, wishing that she could be anywhere but at a brothel with this woman. Her mind replayed what had happened the last time she was here, and she pushed it to the back of her mind, where it belonged.
"I…I suppose I should thank you. For coming in here, and saving me."
"Yeah, well, you made it fucking hard." Emma grumbled.
"Maybe I thought things would be easier if Gold was convicted for life, Deputy. If he had killed me, that's what would have happened to him."
Emma shook her head. "I swear to God, if I live to be a hundred, you'll still totally puzzle me."
"It's not that hard to puzzle you, Miss Swan," Regina smirked, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Hey, I don't think you should be calling me stupid. I did save your life, two times now."
Before Regina could deliver one of her patented withering comebacks, the door to the brothel flew open. Without thinking, Emma threw herself at Regina, holding her, protecting her.
It was just one of the men in Graham's posse. He strode into the room, a grim look on his face. "Uh, Deputy, you're wanted at the station."
Emma narrowed her eyes in thought, her body still close to Regina's. "Why? What happened?"
"I think you should just come see." The man nodded, almost sadly, and walked out.
"Miss Swan."
"What now?"
"Please, remove your hand. We are not in danger, and even if we were, I don't see how having your hand in that particular place on my body would in any way protect me."
Blinking her blurry eyes—the smoke from the candles was fucking with her eyesight—she looked down at her hand that was planted firmly on Regina's left bosom.
"Oh, right. Of course." She retracted her hand quickly, and winced as if she'd been burnt. She cleared her throat, shifting away from Regina.
There were five seconds of blaring awkward silence, until Regina decided to have mercy on her. Talk about firsts.
"Shall we go to the station? See what the fuss is?" Regina said, standing up.
"Oh, yeah." Emma pushed herself up off the couch, following the businesswoman.
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Gold was dead. He was in his cell, but a bullet was in his chest, and the blood was dripping onto the floor. Regina was glad she wouldn't have to clean that up.
Rebecca was there. She'd turned herself in.