A/N: Thank you for your reviews…I love you all.
Isobel Crawley held the elevator door for them as they hurried across the lobby.
"Good morning!" she said in her usual cheerful way. "Carson, we weren't expecting you as well as Mrs. Hughes. Let me offer you both my sincerest congratulations!" They thanked her and managed to make small talk until they reached the office. Elsie felt awkward. She had assumed Isobel had heard about the rumors circulating, but it seemed the older woman had no idea why both the office manager and the managing partner were visiting the city. Either that, or she was ignoring the elephant in the elevator. She was rather good at ignoring the obvious at times.
They hung their coats up with a minimum of fuss. To Elsie's relief, Tom Branson popped his head out of the conference room. "Mrs. Hughes? Mr. Carson? I thought we'd meet in here. I've got coffee, if you'd like some."
"Thank you, Mr. Branson," Charles said. Elsie resisted rolling her eyes with difficulty. He called all the other attorneys by their first names, but with Tom he often fell back on older traditions. They went into the larger room and were surprised to see another man seated at the round table. He ran his hand through his dark brown hair and stood up.
"Mr. Carson, Mrs. Hughes, it's lovely to see you both again."
"Mr. Gregson, this is a surprise!" Charles shook his hand, confused. Elsie sat down after doing the same with only a side glance at Tom. He shut the door behind him.
"Good morning, Michael," Elsie said. "It is nice to see you, but I have to say we didn't expect to see you here this morning."
"He's here because I asked him to come," Tom explained, taking a seat. "I hope you both don't mind, but I called him after I spoke with you yesterday and gave him a quick summary of what's going on."
"After which, I immediately called a few boots on the ground to dig a little deeper," Michael said, smiling. "I'm a journalist, I'd be no good at my job if I didn't have any sources to rely on. Not to publish a story," he said quickly at Charles's raised eyebrows, "but simply to uncover information."
"Did you find anything?" Elsie asked. She was impressed and a little touched at the speed at which everyone was working.
"Not as much as I wanted to. But I did find out some interesting details about Edna. She's heavily in debt, for one thing," Michael said, glancing down at his notepad. "And there's more than one collection agency after her."
"What sort of debt? Do you know specifically?" Charles asked.
"Mostly credit cards, though she does have a significant student loan burden as well. She seems to have spent heavily over the last few years. Mostly on personal items, clothing, travel, things like that. The appearance of a lifestyle beyond her reach." Michael paused. "Tom managed to contact a former landlady of hers."
"A Mrs. Audrey Bartlett," Tom said. "She was in no mood to talk to me, I won't lie."
"Why?" Charles demanded. "Is she working with Edna? We suspect she did not conjure this story out of thin air and disperse it on her own." He glanced at Elsie as he sipped his coffee.
"I didn't get the impression Mrs. Bartlett was in contact with her," Tom said. "Not recently, anyway. She did tell me that Edna had lived at that location until last July. She also identified Richard Carlisle as a visitor to the apartment complex, but that was several years ago, before Edna moved in. She was always a day or so late on her rent," He grinned. "No, Mrs. Bartlett told me she didn't like lawyers, they only 'twist your words, or they're incompetent', is what she said."
"Is there anything else about Edna that you found out, Michael? From what Tom says, it may be that she's known Carlisle for a while." Elsie sighed. "I would not put anything past that man."
"Not much more than what I've told you already," Michael said, tapping his pen on the table. "But I did manage to arrange an appointment with her at my office later this afternoon." His eyes twinkled. "If you and Mr. Carson care to join me, I won't object."
"Certainly we want to be there!" Elsie cried. "How can we ever thank you?"
"If you want to thank anyone, thank Edith," He leaned back in his chair. "She may not work at the family business, but she cares deeply for everyone who works there. I've rarely ever seen her and Mary angry at the same time, and it not be directed at each other."
"I'll second that," Tom agreed. "Robert told me Mary was spitting fire at the gala."
"I'm sure she was," said Elsie. "She'll go to the ends of the earth to defend Charles's honor." She patted his arm.
"Yes, that's true. But she also made it very plain to Carlisle and Russell that you are a woman of excellent reputation, and that no one who worked with you could doubt that you love Mr. Carson with all your heart."
Elsie could not stop her mouth from dropping open. Charles leaned forward.
"Mary said that? About Elsie?"
Tom nodded. "If you don't believe me, ask her yourself." He folded his hands, staring at the table for a moment. "I don't want to embarrass you, but the two of you are held in very high regard by everyone at the firm. You've earned the respect and the affection of your peers. And we won't tolerate a single blemish on either of your reputations," he said, a wide smile growing on his face. "Edna Braithwaite has no idea what she's unleashed. Everyone from Robert to Andy is ready to chase her out of town. And if we find anyone else helped her or put her up to it, they'll face the fire too."
Elsie dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. "Now you're making me cry," she teased through a watery smile. Charles held her hand.
"We're very touched, Tom, thank you," he said softly. He got up and shook his hand.
"You're welcome. I mean it, every word."
They discussed details of the afternoon meeting with Mr. Gregson, agreeing to meet at five o'clock. The rest of the morning was spent quietly. Charles stayed in the conference room to work. Elsie enjoyed eating lunch with Gwen, Ivy and Jane, and equally enjoyed catching up on everyone's holidays. At the end of the work day, Charles met her in her office and they walked the five blocks to the magazine office. Michael met them at the front doors, them having been locked behind the employees after closing.
"Thank you again for arranging this meeting," Charles said as they walked in. "Is she here yet?"
"Yes, she's in my office. This way. You've just missed Edith, she left to pick up Marigold."
"Please tell them we said hello, and thank Edith for us in particular," Elsie said as they made their way through a maze of cubicles.
"I will," he nodded, then pushed open his office door. Edna looked up, first seemingly calm, but when she saw the two companions with Michael her thin face went white.
"You didn't tell me they would be here," she cried, standing up and making her way to the door. "You said you had information about-well, I see. This was just a set-up. You won't be getting anything out of me." She stepped towards the door. Elsie was not surprised. She had expected such a reaction.
Charles stepped in front of Edna, blocking her way. "You agreed to meet Mr. Gregson here at this time. We did the same." He lowered his voice, shutting the door behind him. "You are not going anywhere until you tell us everything."
Edna pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "And what if there's nothing to tell? What if I saw what I saw, and there's nothing you or anyone else can do to make me say otherwise?"
He drew himself up to his full height. Elsie, standing behind Edna, marveled at the full effect. He was not looking at her, but she could feel his controlled rage strain against his self-discipline. Edna took a stumbling step backwards. She nearly fell into Elsie, who reached out and kept her upright.
"Miss Braithwaite," Michael said calmly, pulling out a wooden chair, "why don't you sit down?" Edna looked at him, then back at Charles, as if to see if there was some escape. Her shoulders slumped, and she sat in the chair, her eyes wary.
"What do you want from me?" she asked. Her head was turned toward Elsie, but her eyes had not left Charles.
"We want the truth. Why did you tell Richard Carlisle that lie about Mrs. Hughes?" Charles's voice was soft, but it fairly crackled with intensity.
"What will you give me if I tell you?" Edna asked boldly. At this, Charles erupted.
"GIVE you!? We'll give you nothing, and you'll be glad for it! What do you take us for!?" he roared. Elsie leaned over and squeezed his arm hard. He took a deep shuddering breath. Michael stood behind his desk, running his fingers along the glass top.
"As promised earlier, I will give you the same fee as I always give my sources," he said evenly. "Ask for more, and you won't even get that. And if you persist in trying to squeeze money out of anyone in this room, well. Let's just say the law is on their side." He sat in his chair, putting his feet on his desk, his hands behind his head. "You have precious little to bargain with. You think I don't know about you helping Carlisle cheat Haxby clients? I'm sure Steven Russell would love to know that."
Edna bit her lip and folded her hands.
"Or why don't I call Caroline Anstruther and tell her how you seduced her latest boyfriend on that business trip last summer? She always takes that kind of thing very well."
The young woman virtually deflated in front of them. Elsie sat peering closer at the secretary. On the surface, she looked like a woman with the world in front of her. But her expression held fear, like she carried a great weight on her shoulders.
"All right," Edna said quietly, "It wasn't my idea."
"Oh, I think we all knew that," Elsie said under her breath. Edna kept on.
"Back in August, Richard called me into his office. Said he had a job for me. He'd pay extra for it, too." She licked her lips nervously. "I had collectors ringing me day and night. I needed the money." She looked at Elsie, guilt all over her face. "He wanted me to follow you. See where you went, who you saw. So that's what I did."
Charles stood up. "You followed her-"
"Charles, please! Let her speak."
"I followed you," Edna said, wringing her hands. "It went on for weeks. You never went anywhere out of the ordinary."
"Weeks? Where did you follow me?" Elsie asked, more out of curiosity than anything. She was also shocked. How on earth had she gone for that long without noticing someone following her? Have you noticed anything much for the last six months other than Charles?
"Mostly to work, or where you lived. Around town, doing errands. I-I followed you when you visited your sister." Elsie's own temper was beginning to rise but she kept it in check.
"But the only place you went that didn't make any sense," Edna said, her voice low, "was to Mr. Carson's house. I found out who lived there easily enough after the first week. I'd park down the street and keep watch. I'd stay late, like two in the morning, to see if you'd leave, and text Richard that you were still there. That's what he found the most interesting."
Elsie shuddered, feeling a cold chill. "So Richard wanted to spy on me," she said, feeling nauseated. "Why? Did you ever see Mr. Carson?"
"He never told me why," Edna said, pulling her chair more toward Elsie and away from Charles. "But yes, I saw Mr. Carson a lot with you, at your condo, and other places. Richard used to ask me-" she grimaced. "He liked to hear…details. Like when the two of you went to the Jazz Festival and spent most of the evening in the back of the crowd, kissing-"
"Enough," thundered Charles. Elsie thought about restraining him again, but her own ire spilled out.
"So you followed us, infringed on our private lives, and Richard Carlisle wanted to hear about it!? I suppose he was looking for something to use against us!" She paced along the wall, her face pale with anger. She felt violated. All those months, they thought their relationship was private, and now to find out they were being followed, on the whims of a voyeur. Her blood boiled.
"That's just it," Edna said quickly. "Other than you and Mr. Carson meeting so often, there was nothing that he said he could use against you. Then just after Thanksgiving, he called me into his office again. This time there was someone with him, a woman. I'd never seen her before. She seemed to know Richard, though. She started coming along when I'd follow you, and make notes about what we saw."
Elsie and Charles looked at each other before looking back at Edna.
"Who is she? What does she look like?" Charles asked.
"Her name is Faun Holland," Edna said, shaking her head. "She wore different things, things to change her appearance, wigs, hats, different colored contact lenses, things like that. Sometimes she acted really strange," she pulled on the sleeve of her blouse. "Like if you were leaving work, she wouldn't sit next to me in the car. Instead, she'd lay in the backseat and cover up with a blanket.
"I couldn't tell you with any certainty what she looks like other than she's white and looks to be late '40s, early '50s. She was the one who came up with the idea of starting a rumor, since we had nothing that pleased Richard. That was a week or so before Christmas."
Both Charles and Michael searched on their Iphones.
"Nothing," Charles said. "I don't know anyone by that name. And the description, it could be anyone."
"It's a clever thing," Michael agreed. "I don't know of anyone by that name, either. I'd assume it's an alias."
"Do you have anything that may help us identify her further?" Elsie asked. Her gut was telling her who she thought it was, screaming it. The secrecy and disguises followed a familiar pattern.
Edna's forehead crinkled as she thought. "No. I don't have a picture or anything…oh!" she exclaimed. "I don't know if it would help, but I've got a message on my phone from her, just a couple of days ago." Charles's head shot up. Elsie nodded vigorously.
"Let's hear it then." Her heart pounded. She, and only she, would know if it was the person they suspected. Neither of the men had ever met her. But she had. A feeling of cold dread settled in her stomach.
Edna swiped her finger along her phone, searching for the message. She clicked on it, hitting the speaker button.
"If you think you can back out of this arrangement, you are mistaken. I don't care if your precious Carlisle is losing his nerve, I will not back away from it now. They deserve this, their reputations trashed! Everything they helped take away from me, I will pay them back in full-"
"Stop." Elsie's voice echoed in the room. Edna stopped the message, looking up.
"Do you know who she is?" she asked.
"Her name is not Faun Holland," Elsie said, her lips in a thin line. "Her name is Vera Bates."
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"I should be getting home," Michael said. "It's nearly 8:00. I'm sorry to keep you both so late."
"Not at all," Charles said. "Better to get this business finished sooner rather than later." He put his hand on Elsie's shoulder, massaging the tight muscles in her neck.
"Oh, that feels good," she whispered, closing her eyes. Blushing, she wondered what Michael thought. He intentionally ignored the moment while clicking on his computer screen.
"I think that's all for tonight. We'll go over the details tomorrow, and I'll call Tom tonight to check on the apartment complex. Edna seemed pretty sure that was where Vera's staying while she's in town, but we'll want to be sure. And don't worry," he said, giving Charles a look. "You'll be happy to know that Violet's weighed in on your situation, and is fully in your corner. She came over for dinner last night," he said, answering Charles's unspoken question.
"What did she say?" Elsie asked, curiosity devouring her.
"She said the firm would never have lasted this long if it wasn't for the two of you. And she told me in particular before she left, 'Michael'," he said, adopting the elderly woman's imperious tone, "'Do whatever it takes to find the culprit, even if it is illegal,'" he grinned. "'You're very well placed if you're ever in trouble with the law', she said".
Charles and Elsie laughed heartily. They said goodnight and left the dark building, walking towards the parking garage, hand in hand. Neither spoke for several minutes, thinking about everything that had happened.
"I'm so sorry to put you through this," he began as they waited to cross the street. The fountain glimmered a couple of blocks away.
"Charles, how many times do I have to tell you this is not your fault? You have no control over what Carlisle does, or Edna, certainly not Vera." More's the pity.
"It's not that," he pulled her hand into the crook of his arm. "It's this plan. I still feel like it's dangerous. It should be me to go ahead with it-"
"You can't. I'm the one they've been following. It wouldn't work if they saw you." She went onto her tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll be fine." He stopped, and she did also alongside him.
"I feel like I failed you," he whispered, his breath coming out in puffs under the street light. "Ever since we…we became us, I wanted to make your life easy. To lift some of your burdens." He sighed, sorrow in his eyes. He tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "Not give you more."
She held his hands in hers. "No one's life is easy. I'm grateful that you wanted to try to make mine so. You could never add to my burdens, Charles Carson," she whispered as they inched closer. "You've helped me carry them for the last twenty-five years, even if you didn't know it."
Their lips pressed together, and for the first time in two days, both of them forgot about their troubles. She broke the spell first, feeling a shiver of cold even through her winter coat. "I'm sorry," she laughed quietly. "Maybe I need to buy a new coat."
"Here, you can wear mine. We're almost to the car, I'll be fine." He slipped his off and draped the huge garment around her shoulders. She pulled the collar tighter around her face, smelling him. They continued walking down the sidewalk, pausing only to glance at the fountain.
"Are you remembering our first date?" she teased. He smiled.
"As good of a memory as that is, I'm thinking of another, better one. Of a warmer day," he rumbled, kissing her hand as they went into the parking garage. "That day in June."
The thought of it warmed her straight through.