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LadySharkey1 rocks my world by being the most amazing, kick-ass beta I could ever imagine.
Belmont Island, Maine
Saturday, March 17, 1951
11 AM
After what passed as the most awkward breakfast ever enjoyed by four people who mostly disliked each other, Bella, Jasper and Edward were happy to see Rose leave the room. The spring in the former blonde bombshell's step, and the small, secretive smile on her lips gave her departure a somewhat sinister undertone.
"Do you really think she did it?" Bella asked, almost speechless and bewildered by what she'd just witnessed.
"She sure acts like it," Edward was quick to answer, downing the last of the coffee in his fine china cup. "But I don't know…she seems, uh, almost too obvious about it."
"I know what you mean," Jasper chimed in. "If I were the killer, I would at least put some effort into my 'grieving widow' act instead of happily traipsing around the house like she is."
Bella sighed, the oppressing feeling in her chest magnifying with each second she spent at Belmont. "I want to get the hell out of here…to some place safe." Hysteria started to bubble up as her mind frantically conjured up all sorts of scenarios where she would be next on the killer's hit list. "I just need to see my son again."
Edward, feeling how close she was to her breaking point, grabbed her into a close hug; the soothing scent of her former beau, and his protecting arms around her, brought some of the intensity of her emotions down to an acceptable level. "Let's stick close together," her protector suggested, the rumble of his voice against her ear as she pressed her head against his chest, lulling her into an even stronger sense of security. "How about we go and have a chat with Mrs. Cope? Maybe she knows of another way off this island?"
"Let's hope so," Jasper groused. "But in the meantime, I'm going to get my guns from my room. It's better to be safe than sorry, after all."
Edward cocked his brow in surprise. "You brought guns to an actors' reunion?"
"I grew up in the middle of nowhere, right between the bears and hillbillies," Jasper explained. "I learned to take my guns with me whenever I went."
Bella nodded her understanding. "Do you think Mrs. Cope will want to talk to us? From the sound of it, they keep her pretty busy around here."
"There's only one way to find out, isn't there?" Edward spoke, linking his arm with hers. "Besides, if Mrs. Cope's too busy, then maybe we could see if we can get Jessica to open up some more about some of the things she told us before breakfast."
Bella nodded, remembering what the men had told her about the housemaid's revelations. She still had a hard time believing that Esme, a woman who had been nothing but kind and welcoming to her, could be somehow implicated in the murders of Emmett and Alice. "What do you think Carlisle and Esme's argument was about?"
"It has to have been about Alice," Jasper was quick to answer. "Do you remember how Esme was looking at her when she came down for dinner last night? Besides, knowing Alice, it's as good a guess as any."
The others could only nod their agreement as it was a well-known fact between them that Alice Brandon's presence in a room was bound to provoke some sort of upheaval.
"What could have been the problem, though?" Edward asked, voicing the question that lay on everyone's lips. "It's not like Carlisle and Alice were bed buddies or anything. Hell, I'd be surprised if there'd been any sort of contact between them in the last ten years!"
"Remember the rumors that went around back in the day?" Bella offered, reminding the men of the rumor that Alice had 'earned' her main part in The Merchant of Venice by lying on her back. "Maybe it had something to do with that." Thinking for a moment, she added. "Maybe I can find out something about it this afternoon. Esme asked me to sit with Carlisle for a little while so she could get some rest."
"Excellent idea!" Jasper beamed, waving away the concerned look on Edward's face as he added. "In his current state, you won't have anything to fear from Carlisle. In fact, I think you'd be safer up there with the old man than out here, digging for clues about missing and murdered people with us!"
Edward couldn't help but agree, though be it grudgingly. The thought of letting Bella out of his sight for even a moment with an as yet unidentified rampant murderer stalking the house went against every instinct he had. He knew, though, that if Jasper and he were going to get to the bottom of whatever was going on, it would involve some danger…more hazards than he would ever be prepared to get Bella involved in.
Edward was no stranger to danger; as a decorated war hero, he had ventured deep behind enemy lines as the American army had advanced towards Germany in their quest to defeat Hitler. Many times, he'd looked death in the eye and not once blinked. That was his number one strength: his ability to remain cool and quick to the draw in times when others would panic and freeze. He had to admit that part of him was almost looking forward to hunting down whichever sick bastard was behind the murder of two of his former colleagues.
It was the thrill of the chase, the plunge into the uncertain that he'd missed ever since he'd returned from the battlefield.
"I'd better get going then," Bella offered. "Esme looked at the end of her strength just now and the time seems about right for enjoying a nice, comforting cup of tea in the late morning sunshine."
"And a nice, subtle third degree questioning," Jasper joked, grinning at Bella as she made to leave.
Edward tried but could not find a way to stop her; rationality outweighing the overwhelming fear in his chest. "Be safe, Bella," he urged her as she walked passed him, her fingertips touching his as she went.
Turning around, she smiled over her shoulder. "I will be, if you are, as well."
Nodding, he let out a deep sigh as she disappeared from view, curtailing his fears by getting to the job at hand. "How about we report to the kitchen?"
Jasper chuckled, following him towards the door that separated the servants. "You've got it bad, my friend. Man, you've got it bad!"
"Let's just solve this murder," Edward tried to change the subject, "or even better: find a way off this damn island!"
As the men ventured into the world downstairs, upstairs Bella was getting situated opposite a pale looking Carlisle.
"I'm sorry for the sad state you find me in, dear friend," the old man started, looking ill at ease in his robe and nightwear even though Bella could see that Esme had done her best to make him look as presentable as she could. "But I find that this is the highest level of sophistication I can strive to at this moment."
"You look dashing, sir, as you always do," Bella smiled, though inwardly she was shocked at the ghostly-white man before her. If he looked bad the day before, the past twenty-four hours had changed him into something she had a hard time reconciling with the image of the confident, vivacious director. "And besides, I did not come here to scrutinize your appearance. I'm merely here for a good cup of tea."
"So that my poor Esme can get some sleep," Carlisle added, smiling sadly as his gaze wandered to the door. "When I asked her to live with me, this was not what I had in mind."
"So you've known her for a while?" Bella fished, seeing this as her opening to gain some more information about the dynamics of the pair.
Carlisle nodded. "She was working as a nanny for some wealthy family of assholes—excuse my tongue—in New York. I used to come to the park to think about the staging of my next production and she frequented the same spot. We got to talking about life and the hand fate had dealt us; she hadn't had much luck, you see. My Esme grew up in the worst parts of town in a family riddled with criminals, and just when she thought she'd wrestled herself free from that life, her husband turned out to be the worst crook of them all!"
"Her husband?" Frowning, Bella tried to remember if she had ever heard Esme referred to as anything else but Miss Platt. Besides, if Esme was still married to someone else, the intimate relationship she'd never denied having with Carlisle was nothing short of scandalous!
"He left her one night, after nearly beating her into a pulp," Carlisle explained, his face darkening with pure rage, "and nothing has been seen or heard from him since that night, and so after a while, Esme referred back to her maiden name and tried to forget him. It was luck—or at least she saw it that way—that had her ending up as a nanny, though if you ask me, it was a loveless existence that sucked the life right out of her!"
Bella nodded, urging him on while inwardly her heart was pounding with the force of Carlisle's revelations. "And you wanted to help her escape?"
"I wanted to give her everything she should have had: a loving partner, a carefree life and all the luxuries I could give her," Carlisle answered. "We were going to grow old here, together, and after my death, she could do as she chose: sell the island and retire to a place of her own choosing or live out her days in the quietude of Belmont. I never intended for her to be a slave to my slowly decaying body."
While Bella sat there, quietly absorbing the shockwave of information, Jasper and Edward were right in the middle of their own thunderstorm of information. The source of their tumultuous afternoon being the quite formidable Mrs. Cope.
An anonymous yet omnipresent factor in their Belmont hours until then, they were amazed to find a quite normally proportioned woman in her late forties or early fifties where they had expected some stout dragoon. Her demeanor, however, was more befitting the latter as she ranted about the unfairness of life in general, and her own life in particular.
"…and how am I supposed to get dinner on the table when all the members of staff keep doing as they damn well please?" she huffed, her muscular arms digging into a huge pile of dough. "First Sam goes missing with the keys to the drinks cabinet just when I need red wine for the boeuf bourguignon I have planned for dinner, and then Jessica ups and disappears as well! And Mr. Carlisle wants his lunch and feels like Esme's too delicate to go and fetch it for him – like he's some great English lord who has a staff of thirty instead of three. As if I can do all of this on my own! I haven't even been able to go down to the cellar to see if there's some way to get into the wine cellar without the damn keys!"
"Do you want us to pop down and have a look?" Jasper offered, much to Edward's amazement. Shushing Edward's remonstrance, he stepped forward, placing one hand on Mrs. Cope's pale arm. "If you tell us what to look for, we could fetch the wine for you and have a look around to see if we can find Jessica, as well."
Mrs. Cope, mollified by the gentleman's offer, quickly rattled off the name of the wine she was looking for, along with directions through the maze of subterranean rooms. As he pulled Edward behind the cellar door, Jasper whispered conspiratorially, "This will give us the perfect opportunity to snoop around Belmont's lower level."
Edward nodded, finally catching on to what Jasper was saying as they opened each and every door on their way to the wine cellar and peeked inside for signs of any disturbances but finding none.
Until they reached their final destination.
There, lying in a pool of blood with the bottle of wine Mrs. Cope requested, was Sam Uley.
Dead.
And for some time, it appeared, as his eyes stared into nothingness as a knife stuck out of his chest.
Murdered.
Just like Jasper had said.
Thoughts?