A Walk in Ashes
Late in the evening, Gold reluctantly returns Belle to her own apartment. He is astonished when she shares that she thinks he is 'very attractive' and gives him a chaste kiss before retiring to her bedroom. He is again surprised that night when she seeks him out, terrified to be alone in her own apartment – the weight of the murder having taken root in her mind and grown into harrowing maturity. At her tearful request, he spends a stressful night sharing her bed (but not her body).
The next morning Ms. Potts arrives and is taken aback by Belle's presence. Belle reassures her and encourages her to pursue a routine activity - making breakfast. Killian Jones then arrives, treating Belle as his fiancée (much to Gold's consternation who is wondering just what is going on between the two). Jones recants all his previous statements regarding the evening of Lacey's murder. Regina arrives and faints with the realization that Belle is still alive. Jones taunts Gold who threatens him with arrest.
Confession
Chapter 12
Gold was angry as he spoke to Jones, "I've got enough on you to arrest you right now."
As the two men postured, a re-composed Regina emerged from the bedroom, the noise of the argument easily having reached her, "Quick, Gold, get the handcuffs. Trundle him off to the hoosegow."
Killian turned on Regina, "You keep out of this."
"You'll look nice in handcuffs," Regina was back to form.
"Why don't you get down on all fours again, Regina? It's the only time you've ever kept your mouth shut," Killian advised her.
Regina ignored him and turned to Belle. "I hope you'll forgive my wee touch of a falling spell, my dear. Attacks of the vapors are an old family custom," Regina had joined them in the hallway while she apologized to Belle. Then she turned back to Gold, "Well, Gold, what does Belle's resurrection do for you?"
"You know, Ms. Mills, you could make me change my mind about Killian," Gold muttered.
Regina turned back to Belle, "Well, in any case, we'll have time for a little get-together. You'd better call Leroy and get some liquor sent up here and maybe Ms. Wolfe can send up some food on the fly. You've given her enough business that I'm sure she'll have a spare tray of something or another she can supply. Can't expect Ms. Potts to take care of everything," Regina told her.
"What do you mean 'a little get together'?" Belle asked.
"People will be descending on you to celebrate your return - Cora, David, Jefferson, those models, some of your favorite clients."
Belle was puzzled, "But . . . who, who asked them to come?"
Regina waved her cell phone, "I did, when I was back in the bedroom. I phoned Graham, and he's calling everyone."
"Why did you do that, Regina?" Belle asked.
"A sense of the fitness of things, my dear. Perhaps our friend can weave all the loose ends together into a noose. How about it, Gold?" Regina gave him a wink.
# # # # #
There was a throng of people in Belle's apartment. They had started coming over early in the morning and had stayed until well into the afternoon, eating, drinking and generally celebrating. Gold had sat in one of the corner chairs glowering at everyone. He was pissed, he was furious, he was livid and it showed. What the hell had possessed Regina to bring in all these people?
No one dared approach him.
Killian approached Belle putting his arms around her. She had been scurrying around, getting hugs, talking with everyone, making sure everyone had food and drink. Thankfully both Leroy and Ms. Wolfe had come through with drink and food - enough for everyone. "You're working yourself to death, darling. I haven't had a moment alone with you all day."
"It's a very thirsty crowd," Belle explained, detaching herself. She gave him a wan smile and re-entered the throng.
"Well darling. This party was a brilliant idea. It's not like we're celebrating someone else's death." Cora had come up and put her hand on Jones's arm.
Killian stepped aside, "Aren't you being a little bit nasty, Cora?"
"I feel nasty when I don't get to see you."
"Well, you look lovely, as always. That's a completely wonderful outfit you've got on, darling. One of Belle's designs I believe. Now, if you'll forgive me, I want to get Belle one of those new cocktails that Jefferson is mixing up," Killian spoke in a low voice to Cora.
"I'd like one too," Cora said petulantly.
"Well, here you go," Killian picked off a random drink from a tray that Ms. Potts was carrying through the crowd.
"Killian, why don't you come to your senses? You know it's all over between you and Belle, or it soon will be. But you haven't lost me. Why don't we get married now?" Gold could overhear the whispered remarks Cora was making to Jones.
"Cora, dear, you don't seem to realize the situation," Killian tried to explain.
"Oh, but yes I do," Cora protested. "That's why you need me. We'll get the best criminal lawyer that money can buy. I recommend Sarah Fisher – she's a stone-cold bitch, but she's great. When it's all over, we'll go away- anywhere you want- and forget about all this."
"Thanks, Cora, but you see, Belle still needs me. Sorry," and Killian turn to meld back out into the crowd.
He honed in on the group crowded around Belle, "If you don't mind, I'd like a word with my fiancee," he announced, putting his arms around her and pulling her away from the larger group off to a corner, a corner away from Gold but still in his view and, if the man happened to have good hearing, within eavesdropping range.
"Darling, I'm so sorry I wasn't able to handle things out at the cabin yesterday," Jones told her.
"Killian," Belle began, "tell me, why did you go to. . ." she looked around and lowered her voice. "Why did you go to the cabin yesterday?"
"Belle, don't you know? I was afraid that you wouldn't think of getting rid of that shotgun," Killian answered, also keeping his voice low.
Belle was clearly puzzled, "What shotgun?" she asked.
"The one I gave you. You don't have to lie to me, darling. I'll stand by you," Killian promised her.
Cora was nothing if not persistent. She had followed Killian and had come up to the duo, "Belle, what's wrong?" she asked.
"Darling," Belle gave Killian one of her blinding smiles. "Please get me one of Jefferson's new drink concoctions . . . what is he calling it? Death in the Afternoon - absinthe and champagne. I've been wanting to try one." Killian immediately left her to get drink and Belle turned back to Cora. "I guess I'm just anxious. That's all."
"Well, darling, so am I," Cora told her.
"Gold suspects Killian," Belle began. "And he seems to suspect me too. And so do some of my friends."
Cora shook her head in disbelief, "You? Don't be absurd. You could never do anything like that. Now Killian?"
"Oh, I don't think he did it," Belle assured her.
"But he's capable of it," Cora insisted. "Now tell me, dear, are you as interested in Lieutenant Gold as he is in you?"
"What?! Cora, I just met the man two nights ago."
"That's more than long enough sometimes," Cora told her. "Any way, he's better for you than Killian. Anybody is. Killian's better for me."
Belle smiled, "Why is that?"
"Because I can afford him and I understand him. He's no good, but he's what I want. I'm not a nice person, Belle. Neither is he. He knows I know he's a . . . just what he is. He also knows that I don't care. We belong together because we're both weak and can't seem to help ourselves. That's why I know he's capable of murder. He's like me."
Killian had come up carrying Belle's drink and had heard the last part. "Well, I didn't kill Lacey, no reason to." He had wrapped his arms around Belle and was snuggling along her neck.
Gold had watched this exchange without commenting on it. He felt his side buzzing and looked down. The mayor's office. No doubt, checking on his progress. He answered his phone. "Yeah, I know. . . . Don't worry . . . I told you, I'm on top of things." As he spoke the room became quiet and all eyes turned to him. "Yeah, well, I was just gonna make my move when you called." Gold looked around at his audience. "No, I can't tell you now. I'm not alone. You'll see soon enough. . . Right. I'll keep you in the loop." He clicked off his phone. The room had become quiet.
Gold closed his eyes and got up. He walked over to Belle, "All right, Miss French. Let's go."
Belle closed her eyes for a moment. "You mean . . . ?"
"Yeah," he answered her quietly.
Ms. Potts heard the exchange, "No, no, no! Not Miss French! Please, no!"
Belle turned to her housekeeper, "Thank you Bessie, Thank you. Now, will you please be good enough to go and get my pocketbook and phone?"
Ms. Potts was crying, "Yes, Miss . . . "
Cora was there, "I'm coming with you as your attorney. Let him accuse you."
Regina spoke up, "We'll fight them. I have every weapon - money, connections, prestige . . . and my blog and podcasts. Every day, millions will read about you and rally to your defense."
Gold turned on Regina, "You talk as if you wanted to see her tried for murder."
Regina agreed, "Yes, rather than let you blacken her name with suspicions and rumors. Try to prove her guilty. Get on the witness stand with your poor shreds of evidence. I'll expose the cheap methods you used on her," Regina was still ranting when Ms. Potts came out of the bedroom with Belle's purse.
"Thank you Bessie," Belle said, quietly taking it from Ms. Potts.
"Belle, I'm telling you to watch out for this fellow," Killian began glaring at Gold.
Belle turned to Gold, "Shall we go now?"
"I warning you, Belle. He's dangerous," Killian continued.
Gold turned on Killian, "It's too bad you didn't open that door Friday night, Jones," he said as a parting shot.
"Belle, I'll meet you at the station. Don't say anything without me being there," Cora called after her and then turned, "Killian, I'll need you to drive me down to the station."
# # # # #
"Miss French."
"So we're back to Miss French now?" she asked him.
He had taken her to the police station but they hadn't gone in the front. He had taken her around the back and into a small building, unlit and empty except for a couple of offices. He'd turned on the lights and conducted her into one of the offices.
He gave her a tight smile, "Please, sit down." Gold directed her to a wooden chair sitting in front of a table. He took the chair across from her. There was a large mirror on one side which Belle assumed was a two-way mirror. Gold sat down across from her.
There was a long moment of silence.
"Well, why have you brought me here?" she asked him.
Gold looked at her, got up and walked away. "I know I don't have the right to do what I just did."
"What did you just do?" she asked him.
"Took you away from that pack of prowling sycophants." He turned back to her. "I thought if I had to see Jones slobber on you or put his hand on your . . . girls one more time, I'd take his hand off with a dull spoon. I know . . . I know I don't . . . I shouldn't . . . "
"This was jealousy?!" Belle asked him, rising. "You're jealous of Killian?!"
He had turned his back to her, "Belle, I'm not a young man. I know myself, I understand myself. What I'm feeling is not infatuation, or a fleeting fancy or even lust. It's deep and it's real." He turned back to her. "When I first started on your case, I thought you were the most special, most beautiful, most desirable woman I'd ever encountered. Did you know that when Cora and Regina started talking about dispersing your possessions, I put in a bid for your painting?" He paused. "Somehow I thought if that painting was waiting for me when I got home, it would make me feel . . . almost . . . almost . . . as if . . . as if you were waiting for me. It would make things worth it, make me feel . . . less lonely. And then I met you, the real you and you were everything. . . and more."
Belle had sat back down. There was a long quiet moment. "Do you believe in love at first sight?" she asked him.
"I don't know . . . . If you had asked me that a week ago, I would have said no, absolutely not, but now . . . I don't know," he answered honestly.
"I have feelings for you," she began slowly. "I don't exactly know what they are, but I've never felt for someone like I feel for you."
"What do you want to do?" he asked her. He knew what he wanted to do – sweep her away to some isolated location – that little cabin might do. He wanted to strip off her clothes and make slow, passionate love to her.
"I'm still a murder suspect, aren't I?" she asked.
"Yes," he nearly winced.
"I'm sure in Policeman 101 you are told to never fall in love with a suspect," she told him.
"Yeah, we had a whole chapter on that, couple of lectures, a big test and everything," he responded.
"So we really, really shouldn't proceed with this relationship until I'm cleared and you've wrapped up the case."
He gave her a small smile. "All right then. At this moment, I actually do have some follow-up questions for you."
"Go ahead."
"Why did you say your television wasn't working at your cabin?"
"Because it wasn't working."
"Not when I tried it," he told her.
Belle sat a moment. "I called the dish people on a local phone at a gas station when I had gone out for my hike to Little Bradley. They must have come by after I left and . . . before you got there . . . and got it working again.
Gold took a deep breath. "You're too intelligent to make up something I could check on so easily . . . but you're intelligent enough to have broken it yourself to strengthen your story." He shifted in his seat this next question was hard for him, "The main thing I want to know is why you pulled that switch on me about Jones. You told me that first night that you had decided not to marry him."
"Yes, I guess I did," she admitted.
"But today it was on again. Why?"
"Well, I . . . I changed my mind," she stammered out. He lost eye contact with her.
"What are you trying to hide? Don't you realize you're both involved in a murder?" He raised his voice. "You've got yourself in a jam it's not going to be easy to get out of . . . unless you're on the level with me," he pleaded with her. "This is no time for secrets. Now, did you really decide to call it off or did you just tell me that because you thought I wanted to hear it?" Gold sat back in his seat. "Or did he persuade you to make up? And did you agree or did you agree to pretend you had? Was that it?"
Belle bit her lip, "Well . . . he . . . that is, both of us thought . . ." There were tears pooling in her eyes.
Gold interrupted, "He convinced you that if you broke the engagement now, people would think that you believed he was guilty."
Belle brought her hand up to her eyes, "Yes, but now I know it was only because he thought I was guilty and he was trying to protect me."
"Do you believe he's guilty?" Gold asked her.
"No," Belle quickly spoke up. "No, I'm sure he isn't. But he's gotten himself into an awfully suspicious position and he is the sort of man that people are always ready to believe the worst about."
"Are you in love with him?" Gold had to ask.
Belle locked eyes with him. "I don't see how I ever could have been."
Gold sat back and took several deep breaths.
"Did you know that Lacey was pregnant?" he asked her.
"What . . . ? How did . . . ?" Belle paused and thought it through. "Emma . . . ! Emma found out, of course she would find out." Belle rubbed her forehead. "Yes, I knew. Lacey had just found out. She had gone to Jones for help."
"Why did she go to Jones? Was he the father?" Gold pushed.
"No, of course not. They were old friends. She didn't have anyone else she thought she could trust. He gave her his watch, an expensive watch I had given him. I didn't know why at first but I found out that it was supposed to pay for an abortion. But Lacey began to have second thoughts. She didn't think it was the right thing to do. Killian got her to talk with me and she told me everything."
"You were going to help her?" he asked. Was that why she'd made those calls to that Atlantan attorney?
"Of course I was. Lacey hadn't always made the best decisions but she was trying to do better. The baby had made her rethink her life. I got her connected with an attorney in Atlanta. She had been one of my clients and I knew she could arrange for Lacey to go through with an adoption, one of those that the mother-to-be and the couple come together and the couple pays the pregnant woman's expenses and then she lets them have the baby. I can give you the attorney's name. She'll back me up that we've been in contact," she told him.
Gold sat quietly a moment across from Belle. "Tell me you didn't kill Lacey," he told her.
She looked him in the eye, "I didn't kill Lacey."
"I believe you," he told her. He wanted to take her into his arms. "I haven't wanted to believe that it could have been you, but from an outsider's perspective it looks like you got rid of a rival. You appear to have motive, opportunity, no alibi and, now, access to the type of weapon that did the job. I had to get rid of any lingering doubts I had."
"You know you have greatly alarmed my friends. You know they all think you've arrested me." Belle nailed him with her hard, bright blue eyes. "I'm upset about how you handled this."
He shrugged, "Well, sorry, but I actually only like a couple of your friends," he told her and held out his hand to her to rise from the chair. Belle took his hand but was still glaring at him.
"You can't be pushing people around like this, like they were puppets, pieces on a chessboard for you to move around." Belle stood up and began to lecture him. "You can't be manipulating people," she advanced on him, backing him up against the wall. "It isn't right. I'm scared enough about all this, I don't need you adding to it. You made everyone think you were arresting me! I thought you were arresting me, but then you bring me down here to tell me you're falling in love with me!" He was standing with his back to the wall. Belle was standing in front of him blistering in her anger. "I have all these powerful, strong feelings about you but sometimes. . . . you're infuriating! I had been thinking that you were an intelligent, reasonable man, but now I'm thinking that you're little better than a beast, a monster that takes advantage of people in desperate situations."
"Belle, I was doing my job . . . " he began lamely.
"Screw your job!" she told him.
They stood looking at each other for a moment, Belle furious, Gold not the least bit penitent. They were standing as close to each other as possible without touching the other. It was a long moment and the tension between them was sizzling.
"You care about me," he said quietly. "You're falling in love with me." And abruptly he reached for her and she allowed him to pull her into his arms and then they were kissing and it was wonderful. Belle's hands went around his shoulders and she knew that she was kissing him back. He had pried her mouth open nothing gentle, nothing tender here. He turned her so that she was against the wall and he was pressing himself into her, his body hard against hers, exuding heat and comfort, power and control. His lips had left hers and were now traveling down her neck, leaving a line of super-heated, super-stimulated flesh. Belle shivered against the onslaught. His hands had made their way around her waist and she was thoroughly pressed against the wall. She leaned forward, kissing him along the shoulder, having to stop herself from biting him, most of the time stopping herself from biting him. A small whimper escaped her. That seemed to spur him on. His hands left her waist and were now holding her by her arms, holding her wrists above her head up against the wall. She might have been struggling, not to escape his grasp but to reach out and hold him, touch him. Then he was kissing her again, his tongue tracing a slick path along the tender insides of her lips. He was tasting her, savoring her.
It seemed to go on forever, in the darkened room, just the two of them, gasping for breath between deep kisses.
And now there was a thudding series of knocks on the door.
"Lieutenant Gold! Sir, are you in there?"
Gold pulled away just slightly, breathing heavily, his hands still holding her wrists in place. He and Belle went absolutely still.
"Gold! I know you're in there. Your truck's out back."
"Yeah!" Gold finally answered, not releasing Belle. "I'm busy Sergeant Heller. What is it?"
"There an aggressive red-headed woman at the front desk. She's demanding to see you."
Gold took a deep breath and gave Belle a quick kiss on the lips. "Tell her that Miss French called me a cocksucker and didn't give an inch. I'm not going to be able to arrest her," he called out.
Belle took the opportunity to kiss the man in the hollow of his throat, her lips lingering against his skin, breathing him in, flicking her tongue out to brush against his skin, then moving slightly and kissing him again . . . and again.
"She's demanding to see you," the Sergeant persisted.
Gold had closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Belle's slow, wet kisses.
"Sir?" Heller called out to him again.
"Let her know that I'm releasing Miss French and I'll be taking her back home."
"Take me to your house," whispered Belle.
Gold flinched. "Let her know that I'll be releasing Miss French," he amended.
They stood still and the footsteps of the Sergeant faded away.
It was Belle who pulled away next, pulling her wrists away as he eased up his grasp. "I'm sorry." She was panting. "I'm supposed to be an engaged woman," she apologized.
"But you're not," he told her and pulled her back to himself. "Engaged or sorry," he told her. "You taste as good as you smell, you know that," he murmured and began kissing her again, this time sweetly and tenderly. His eyes had darkened and she knew he was holding himself back, trying not to overwhelm her, trying not to hurt her.
"Are you sure you want to go to my house?" he asked softly.
She nodded, "Spending the night in my apartment last night turned out to be . . . unsettling." Her eyes were large, nearly luminous.
"Of course. I haven't changed the sheets yet, so you're set up." He led her out of his office and back to his truck. He helped her up into the vehicle. "You're very welcome to spend what's left of the day . . . and the night, Miss French. No strings. No expectations," he assured her.
"Listen, you've just had your tongue down my throat. Please go back to calling me Belle," she told him.
He gave her a noncommittal grunt.
As they rode in silence, Belle would look over at the man. In the shadows, lit from behind by the late afternoon sunlight, she could see the man in profile – something raptor-like about him. He was a dark figure, cold, hard, driven. And he stirred her blood like no one else she had ever met.
He had forced kisses on her, no, no, be fair, he had not forced her. She had welcomed his kisses . . . good god, had she welcomed his kisses. They had heated her up, caused her toes to curl and her stomach to lurch and something deep inside had begun to coil. She had wanted to wrap her legs around him.
As they drove up to his house, she could see the magnificent structure in slanted late afternoon light.
"Your house takes my breath away," she told him.
"I have pictures of when I bought it," he told her. "It does look a bit better now."
"I'd like to see them," she told him.
"Sure," whatever she wanted. He pulled into his garage. They made it into his house. She turned to him, "Lieutenant Gold," she began. "I don't know your first name."
"It's complicated. Most people just call me Gold. You can call me Rumple." At her questioning look, he added, "My parents were hippies."
"Rumple?" she rolled it off her tongue. There's more story here.
"Miss French . . . Belle," he answered.
She hadn't moved, standing still in his ordinary kitchen. He stood near her, sensing she wanted to say something, do something. She reached out and pulled him to her, putting her arms around him. "You care about me. You're falling in love with me," she told him. He hesitated a moment, she could tell he was hesitating . . . but then . . . he bent himself to the kiss.
Thanks so much to all my ever faithful reviewers: OneMagician, Grace5231973, onlyinyourdreams77, orthankg1, juju0268, Wondermorena, RaFire, Tinuviel Undomiel, kagi-chan2, Guest (hates Killian more), cynicsquest, Robin4, deweymay, MyraValhallah, and Erik'sTrueAngel
NEXT: Gold and Belle share a passionate moment
Belle defends Gold
Gold develops a theory