alandslide
+1+
The next morning I woke up as if I were recovering from a hangover even though I hadn’t anything to drink in the past 24 hours. It took a while for me to fully recognize that heavy feeling as grief.+1+
My loving father was still somewhere in the monster he had become towards his death.
Seeing him dead . . . at the funeral was disconcerning.
I’d almost forgotten where I was but the smell of fresh flowers and the flood of warm light reminded me of the tumultuous trip I had taken.
I wiped the tears from my eyes and saw my suitcase by the bedside. I could hear sounds coming from down stairs and I realized I most have been the last one to wake up. I couldn’t bring myself to care and took a slow and long shower.
I tossed on a wrinkled black sweater and black stretch pants and worn sneakers. I took the time to scrub off my make up and putting my hair up with one of the ties by the counter. For some reason I expected myself to look more put together than I did
I took a deep breath and went downstairs. In the daylight I could really see how beautiful the house was not that I expected anything less.
Mr. Fierro and I’s brief conversation last night had ended in an impasse neither of seeing one another for the rest of the night.
Nothing really prepared me for what I found in the dining room
There were four places set at the table. Mr. Fierro, Rose and her nanny at each one respectively. As expected I was entirely under-dressed for breakfast but what perplexed me is that they were all dressed from head to toe in black.
I wondered if he was mocking me, not that he even looked at me.
None of them looked up as I entered except for Rose who still seemed a little sleepy at 9 in the morning. I sat next to her not feeling at all ready to eat.
I turned nervously to the blonde woman on my right, she had to be in her late thirties, she had a kind motherly air about her. She smiled brightly considering the somber mood.
“I’m Clara”, I said introducing myself trying not to appear awkward.
“Joy”, she gave me her name, “Rosalie is a wonderful girl. She talks about you all the time”
“Really ?”,
“Yes. I promised her I’d take her out in the snow today. It is so pretty out . . if that’s okay ?”, she said.
“Sounds fun”, I replied
The conversation ended there and the rest of breakfast consisted of forks and plates and the occasional turn of the newspaper.
I watched Rosalie as she pushed around the strawberries around on her plate. I wanted to make up for the six months I’d missed but the strange grief kept me lethargic.
Mr. Fierro left for what I assumed was his office somewhere in the house. He did this without saying so but I assumed.
“Can we go outside now, Joy ?”, Rose asked tugging on Joy's sleeve
“Sure, why don’t you get ready while I clean up.”
Rose took my hand insisting she needed my help to get ready. She was quiet as I helped her pull on her warm cream colored peacoat with a few shimmering threads mixed in, matching mittens and hat followed by lined boots.
I tried not to linger on her drastic hair cut. Something told me I shouldn't ask her about ir and I supposed that her hair would grow back.
“Are you coming outside ?”, she asked.
“I think I’ll stay inside today”, I told her
“Are you sad, Mommy ?”, she asked
“No—I mean yes---I’m just not feeling well.”
I wondered if I should tell her about my father, though something told me she already knew.
“I thought you'd be happy. . . to see me again”, she said
“I am”, I steadied my hands on her shoulders , “Don’t you have fun with Joy ?”
“Yes”, she said, “she’s my only friend”
She didn’t seem sad about that, but I knew that would have to change.
“Rosalie”, I knelt down to her level, “a few days ago my father died. Do you know what that means ?”
She looked as if she were searching for the right thing to say and I wondered if she understood or even cared. She blinked a few times and her eyes became wet but no tears feel.
“Yes.”, she whispered.
“Do you want to talk about it—“
“I want to go in the snow.”, she insisted crossing her arms. I didn’t want to argue
“Go ahead. Wait, where is . . um.. .”
She pointed her gloved hand towards the back of the kitchen before sprinting out to join Joy in the snow. I went through the small hallway in the kitchen. I wasn’t at all surprised to see a slanted roof glasshouse connected to the main house. From the door I could see the humidity fogging up the glass, surrounded by neat row of exotic flowers.
I started to really listen and I could hear the sound of glass breaking. I reached for the door and of course it was locked. I knocked a few times and the sound of the breaking glass stopped. The house appeared to be very old, I wandered how hard it would be to break the lock ?
I tried putting pressure on it, but the lock looked brand new almost as if it had been put on last night.
“What are you doing ?”
I jumped and nearly ran into the door when I realized Mr. Fierro was standing behind me, he was covered in a very light sprinkling of snow.
“I-I-was looking for you”, I managed to get out.
“What ever for ?”
I decided it was best he didn’t know that I had been trying to break into his glasshouse. His arms were shaking slightly I thought perhaps it was because he had been outside without a coat but it was something more.
“Are you okay”, I said reaching for his arm
“Yes, I’d rather not be out in the cold”. He said curtly
“Why didn’t you just unlock this door“, I pulled against the locked door, "hiding something ?"
“Why were you looking for me ?”, he seemed annoyed
“I just wanted to thank you for bringing my luggage”
“I also moved your car last night”, he said handing me the keys, “I found this”
He was holding up the picture that Juliet had drawn of Rosalie. I’d meant to throw it away.
“About that”, I said, “Well, It appears that Detective Rainer, who is investigating my father’s murder, has found a psychic. She drew this after 'speaking' with my father.”
“A Psychic ? Do you think she is honest?”
“I do, actually. Are you worried that she will find out what secrets you are hiding ?”
“Well, then I’ll have to talk about this with Emile. . .and Mr. Essex, though we will have to wait for the snow to stop—“
“Wait, you still talk to him”, I said referring to Essex, “He tried to kill my daughter”
“Actually I believe it was the other way around. Besides he knows so much more about these unusual things.”
“I don’t think that will help the fact that I think this psychic knows the truth.”, I said
“If she does know the truth then why are you not locked away.”
“You really think I’m guilty”
“I know you are guilty, Ms. DeLune”
“How is that ? You haven’t set foot in New York for years”
“True, but I know deep down inside what you are capable of. “
“Me ? I’m sure your benevolent psychopathic personality makes you perfectly innocent.”
“Careful, Ms. DeLune.”, he pressed a finger to my lips, “Also if I were you I would stay away from locked doors. There are so many doors you do not want to open”
I shrugged off his last few comments and went to watch Rosalie and Joy out in the snow. They were building a snowman and I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen her open up to someone like that, of course she had never really been around other people.. Watching her reminded me that I should check on my mother.
After several minutes of searching for my cell phone it refused to turn on. I turned it over noticing scuff marks around the edge of the battery. I figured i must have dropped it. Could I risk calling from a land line but would Rainer somehow intercept it ?
I hated that Rainer was in my head.
I decided not to call my mother and almost immediately after I realized that I was dreadfully bored. I couldn’t plug my laptop into any of the European outlets . Next I tried to hook up the television set and had given up once I realized the television didn’t have cables .
The only sounds in the house were the hushed tones of music coming through the speakers. It filled every corner of the house except for Rosalie’s room.
I took another walk around the house when I came to another locked door on the first floor. I reasoned that it must lead to a garage in the back. Despite the warning I still tried to open it, the lock felt so weak.
“No!”, Roasile shouted, she was shivering from the snow her eyes glazed over when she saw me. She began to pull me from the door. She had a tight grip on my wrist and I stepped away.
“It’s just a door”
“No,you can’t open it.”
“Okay”, I said not wanting to scare her, “It won’t open it anyway”
She pulled me away from the door and the second she was out of sight of the door she recovered quickly. I helped her out of her coat and hat brushing her hair back. I stopped when I noticed a dark lines running aross her arms.
“Rose, what happened ?”
“I fell”, she said covering the mark with her hand.
“Rosalie”, I said sternly
“It’s true Mommy, it hurt. I didn’t think it would hurt.”
“Rosalie, how did this happen ?”
“On the stairs, I don’t like them they are slippery”, she folded her arms in frustration.
I didn't believe but wasn't ready to press the issue.
“Okay, why don’t you put your coat up”
Once she had climbed the stairs and disappeared around the corner I found Joy in the kitchen making some warm milk for her.
“How are you doing ?”, Joy asked and I realized she must have been talking about my father
“Better, I suppose. Time heals all wounds”, I sat down next to her, “how long have you been with Rosalie ?”
“Oh, let’s see I’d say nearly 6 months. I generally watch her during the day and take nights off”
“Have you watched over many of children ?”
"Yes, I'm fully qualified.”
“Does she seem happy.. . or normal ?”
“Well, she is very smart for her age. ”
“Joy, I have sort of a strange question.”
“Sure”
“Were Rosalie and Mr. Fierro here last week ?”
“Hm, wasn’t that an American holiday?”
“Yes, Thanksgiving”
“Okay, why don’t you put your coat up”
Once she had climbed the stairs and disappeared around the corner I found Joy in the kitchen making some warm milk for her.
“How are you doing ?”, Joy asked and I realized she must have been talking about my father
“Better, I suppose. Time heals all wounds”, I sat down next to her, “how long have you been with Rosalie ?”
“Oh, let’s see I’d say nearly 6 months. I generally watch her during the day and take nights off”
“Have you watched over many of children ?”
"Yes, I'm fully qualified.”
“Does she seem happy.. . or normal ?”
“Well, she is very smart for her age. ”
“Joy, I have sort of a strange question.”
“Sure”
“Were Rosalie and Mr. Fierro here last week ?”
“Hm, wasn’t that an American holiday?”
“Yes, Thanksgiving”
It was also the weekend my father died.
“No worries then, I was with them.”
Joy smiled at me again and I realize how uncomfortable I must be making her. She looked up at me and smiled a few times before returning to the milk.
I went upstairs to find what was taking Rosalie so long. The door to her room was partially closed and I could hear her talking softly followed by a very indifferent response.
“No,you have to listen to me, angel”, I recognized Mr. Fierro’s stern voice from inside her room.
“But, I-“
“You are not to speak a word of that to Ms.-- your mother, understand?”
“Yes”, she said in a small voice similar to Clarice, “But, what about Ms. Joy ?”
“I have already taken care of her. You just need to keep quiet.”
I stood by the door hoping to hear more but there were only a few seconds of silence. I ducked into another room when I heard the door open. He walked past without noticing me. After a few minutes I peeked in to see Rosalie happily playing with her tea set.
When she saw me she begged me to play with her, smiling the entire time. I couldn’t bring myself to upset her by asking her what she was keeping from me.
What had I just walked in to ?
That evening Joy was asked to go and visit her family till the morning. Which I realized was a polite way to get rid of her for the night. I didn’t think anything of it till Mr. Fierro knocked on the guest room door.
“Yes”, I said not opening the door.
I had settled into the practically empty guest room with numerous glasses of a expensive dark wine and my own thoughts. Dinner had been almost a bearable as breakfast. I just couldn’t take the silence anymore.
“Get your coat we are leaving.”, his voice was direct on the other side.
“What do you mean ?”
“We are going to see Mr. Essex and Emile at Emile’s home.”
I rolled myself out of bed and opened the door.
“What about the weather ?”, from the window I noticed the snow had stopped falling.
"You'll manage.”, he said going down the stairs
Reluctantly I slipped on my boots and red coat. I was tried of wearing black, Rosalie met me at her door holding on to my hand till I picked her up.
“Rose you remember Grandma Clair ?”, I asked
“Is she dead too ?”
“No”, I said shocked, “but you remember her phone number”
She nodded, Rosalie never forgot anything.
“You know if something. . . happens to me you can call her.”
“Okay”, she said resting her head on my shoulder pretending to be sleepy.
I wish I could have been more detailed such as if I’m thrown out into the snow and run over by my own rental car, but maybe I was overreacting.
I buttoned up my coat and plunged into the awaiting storm.
The snow had temporarily stopped falling making it easier for me to navigate the back roads. I had been somewhat relieved when Mr. Fierro let me drive carefully instructing me where to go.
The long drive was mostly silent except for Rosalie occasionally pointing out snowmen and snow angels that were by the side of the road and when I asked Mr. Fierro not to smoke in the car which he thoughtfully ignored. I realized he must have been upset that I called him a psychopath. I wanted to apologize but a part of me meant it.
Everything was far to rational with him, among other things.
My eyes briefly wandered to his smooth unblemished hands and the way he lit another cigarette without taking his eyes off the road. Would it be so hard to believe those were the hands of a killer ?
“Is this really necessary ?”, I said not wanting to spend another minute in the same room as Robert Essex.
Robert Essex claimed to be a professor but he liked to dabble in much darker things. He is also the furthest thing from a gentleman one can get.
“Wouldn’t you like to know if this psychic has any merit ?”
“She obviously knows something. She drew that portrait of Rosalie and no one outside my family knows about her and -”
“She knew your father was poisoned that does not mean anything.”
“Well, that and-“, I almost swerved off the road then adjusted myself, “. . wait,I never told you my father was poisoned.”
“Turn here”, he said regarding the road, “Keep left.”
“How did you know my father was poisoned ?”
“Stop here, Ms. DeLune”
I parked in front of a set of row houses and I saw Emile's car sitting on the side of the road. I put the power locks on and turned the car off and turned to face him.
“I never told you my father was poisoned.”, I continued, "how did you know that ?"
“You were speaking while you slept.”, he lied
“You were watching me sleep ?”
“Yes.”, he lied again.
Frustrated I opened the locks, quickly getting out and opening Rosalie’s doors. The minute I let Rosalie out of the car she made her way to the set of row homes towards the end. She seemed to know the way to Emile's house so I followed her. When we arrived to a light green corner house I helped her reach the doorbell .After a few seconds Emile opened the doors beaming brightly.
“Clara, how are you”, I recognized the empathy in Emile's voice, its seemed to be all I heard lately.
“I’ve been better”, I said as we embraced
“Come inside. I’m so sorry about your father”, he said automatically
“Thanks”
The row house was small but comfortable, it was decorated mostly with books and pictures of Emile and another man I didn't recognize.
I did however recognized the tall bearded man seated on Emile’s sofa as Professor Essex. Though I had only known him briefly he looked a lot better than I remembered. I had a feeling he was eyeing more than my intentions as I sat down on the the loveseat across from him,. Emile purposely forced Mr. Fierro to sit next to me.
"It's nice to see you. . . Ms. DeLune, is it still ?", Essex said
"Clara is fine", I said
"I understand you have a psychic problem", he said with a laugh.
"It's not a problem", I said , "you see my father was murdered and the police have a girl who claims to be psychic. . . she is working to find out who murdered my father. "
“Isn’t that a good thing ?”, Emile asked setting down a tray of very English tea.
“It would be except for undisclosed reasons Mr. Fierro and I are certain that one of us killed him.”
“um -did you ?”, Emile said to no one in particular.
“Of course she did, Emile that is why she is here.”, Mr. Fierro added calmly
“Really ?well Mr. Fierro, you seem very concerned about this psychic finding the truth.”, I added
“Yes, and you have been spending all day attempting to break into every room in my house to frame me.”
“And I’m sure you are not telling my daughter to keep things from me—“
I was interrupted by the deep sound of Dr. Essex laughing.
“all this psychic can do , Essex said keeping his eyes on me, “Is read the information given to her.”
“You think she telling the truth “, I said my thoughts turning to my father
“Of course " Essex said walking uncomfortably close to me , “you and I both know the dead are more vocal than the living. Psychics are interesting people and whether they are real or fake they it's their business to never be wrong"
My hands tensed together as Essex continued to lecture--or ramble really about the dead.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore”, I said getting up. I still couldn’t put the term dead and my father together. I walked out of the small living room and went to sit outside on the porch. I think Emile may have gone after me but Mr. Fierro stopped him.
The calm suburban streets were empty with just the occasionally car going by. I convinced myself it was the weather but my eyes began to feel warm and I started crying. I took off my mittens wiping away the tears , telling myself I couldn’t let anyone see me cry over my father, but it was hard to stop loving him.
He used to be my whole world, he used to be able to do no wrong. I mourned that.
I took the keys out of my pocket and went to the car, gently leaning on the horn till Emile and Mr. Fierro came out of the house.
“Emile please get my daughter, I’d like to leave”
Emile returned a few minutes later with Rosalie and put her in the car.
“Is everything alright Clara ?”
“No, can we talk tomorrow”
“I’ll call you”, he said to me as Mr. Fierro reluctantly stepped into the car.
Halfway back to the house Rosalie had fallen asleep I had turned the radio up loud to block out the sound of my occasionally sniffling.
“Ms. DeLune I know what these tears are about”
“No you don’t”, I snapped
“Ms. DeLune I understand you are afraid to see the rest of your family pass as you did your father. Funeral’s are not plesant affairs"
“I’m not afraid. . . it just makes me terribly sad. I just don’t ever want to be without them. One day they are all going to be dead and i'll be-I'll be. . . ”
“Your family is rather close.”, he said as more of an observation., “Maybe it would be easier to distance yourself now before it's too late.”
"What do you mean"
"Save yourself the pain. Leave them before they can leave you, before they notice you are different."
“No. I would never rob them of the time we have left”
"How much time do you think that will be ?"
“No worries then, I was with them.”
Joy smiled at me again and I realize how uncomfortable I must be making her. She looked up at me and smiled a few times before returning to the milk.
I went upstairs to find what was taking Rosalie so long. The door to her room was partially closed and I could hear her talking softly followed by a very indifferent response.
“No,you have to listen to me, angel”, I recognized Mr. Fierro’s stern voice from inside her room.
“But, I-“
“You are not to speak a word of that to Ms.-- your mother, understand?”
“Yes”, she said in a small voice similar to Clarice, “But, what about Ms. Joy ?”
“I have already taken care of her. You just need to keep quiet.”
I stood by the door hoping to hear more but there were only a few seconds of silence. I ducked into another room when I heard the door open. He walked past without noticing me. After a few minutes I peeked in to see Rosalie happily playing with her tea set.
When she saw me she begged me to play with her, smiling the entire time. I couldn’t bring myself to upset her by asking her what she was keeping from me.
What had I just walked in to ?
+++
That evening Joy was asked to go and visit her family till the morning. Which I realized was a polite way to get rid of her for the night. I didn’t think anything of it till Mr. Fierro knocked on the guest room door.
“Yes”, I said not opening the door.
I had settled into the practically empty guest room with numerous glasses of a expensive dark wine and my own thoughts. Dinner had been almost a bearable as breakfast. I just couldn’t take the silence anymore.
“Get your coat we are leaving.”, his voice was direct on the other side.
“What do you mean ?”
“We are going to see Mr. Essex and Emile at Emile’s home.”
I rolled myself out of bed and opened the door.
“What about the weather ?”, from the window I noticed the snow had stopped falling.
"You'll manage.”, he said going down the stairs
Reluctantly I slipped on my boots and red coat. I was tried of wearing black, Rosalie met me at her door holding on to my hand till I picked her up.
“Rose you remember Grandma Clair ?”, I asked
“Is she dead too ?”
“No”, I said shocked, “but you remember her phone number”
She nodded, Rosalie never forgot anything.
“You know if something. . . happens to me you can call her.”
“Okay”, she said resting her head on my shoulder pretending to be sleepy.
I wish I could have been more detailed such as if I’m thrown out into the snow and run over by my own rental car, but maybe I was overreacting.
I buttoned up my coat and plunged into the awaiting storm.
The snow had temporarily stopped falling making it easier for me to navigate the back roads. I had been somewhat relieved when Mr. Fierro let me drive carefully instructing me where to go.
The long drive was mostly silent except for Rosalie occasionally pointing out snowmen and snow angels that were by the side of the road and when I asked Mr. Fierro not to smoke in the car which he thoughtfully ignored. I realized he must have been upset that I called him a psychopath. I wanted to apologize but a part of me meant it.
Everything was far to rational with him, among other things.
My eyes briefly wandered to his smooth unblemished hands and the way he lit another cigarette without taking his eyes off the road. Would it be so hard to believe those were the hands of a killer ?
“Is this really necessary ?”, I said not wanting to spend another minute in the same room as Robert Essex.
Robert Essex claimed to be a professor but he liked to dabble in much darker things. He is also the furthest thing from a gentleman one can get.
“Wouldn’t you like to know if this psychic has any merit ?”
“She obviously knows something. She drew that portrait of Rosalie and no one outside my family knows about her and -”
“She knew your father was poisoned that does not mean anything.”
“Well, that and-“, I almost swerved off the road then adjusted myself, “. . wait,I never told you my father was poisoned.”
“Turn here”, he said regarding the road, “Keep left.”
“How did you know my father was poisoned ?”
“Stop here, Ms. DeLune”
I parked in front of a set of row houses and I saw Emile's car sitting on the side of the road. I put the power locks on and turned the car off and turned to face him.
“I never told you my father was poisoned.”, I continued, "how did you know that ?"
“You were speaking while you slept.”, he lied
“You were watching me sleep ?”
“Yes.”, he lied again.
Frustrated I opened the locks, quickly getting out and opening Rosalie’s doors. The minute I let Rosalie out of the car she made her way to the set of row homes towards the end. She seemed to know the way to Emile's house so I followed her. When we arrived to a light green corner house I helped her reach the doorbell .After a few seconds Emile opened the doors beaming brightly.
“Clara, how are you”, I recognized the empathy in Emile's voice, its seemed to be all I heard lately.
“I’ve been better”, I said as we embraced
“Come inside. I’m so sorry about your father”, he said automatically
“Thanks”
The row house was small but comfortable, it was decorated mostly with books and pictures of Emile and another man I didn't recognize.
I did however recognized the tall bearded man seated on Emile’s sofa as Professor Essex. Though I had only known him briefly he looked a lot better than I remembered. I had a feeling he was eyeing more than my intentions as I sat down on the the loveseat across from him,. Emile purposely forced Mr. Fierro to sit next to me.
"It's nice to see you. . . Ms. DeLune, is it still ?", Essex said
"Clara is fine", I said
"I understand you have a psychic problem", he said with a laugh.
"It's not a problem", I said , "you see my father was murdered and the police have a girl who claims to be psychic. . . she is working to find out who murdered my father. "
“Isn’t that a good thing ?”, Emile asked setting down a tray of very English tea.
“It would be except for undisclosed reasons Mr. Fierro and I are certain that one of us killed him.”
“um -did you ?”, Emile said to no one in particular.
“Of course she did, Emile that is why she is here.”, Mr. Fierro added calmly
“Really ?well Mr. Fierro, you seem very concerned about this psychic finding the truth.”, I added
“Yes, and you have been spending all day attempting to break into every room in my house to frame me.”
“And I’m sure you are not telling my daughter to keep things from me—“
I was interrupted by the deep sound of Dr. Essex laughing.
“all this psychic can do , Essex said keeping his eyes on me, “Is read the information given to her.”
“You think she telling the truth “, I said my thoughts turning to my father
“Of course " Essex said walking uncomfortably close to me , “you and I both know the dead are more vocal than the living. Psychics are interesting people and whether they are real or fake they it's their business to never be wrong"
My hands tensed together as Essex continued to lecture--or ramble really about the dead.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore”, I said getting up. I still couldn’t put the term dead and my father together. I walked out of the small living room and went to sit outside on the porch. I think Emile may have gone after me but Mr. Fierro stopped him.
The calm suburban streets were empty with just the occasionally car going by. I convinced myself it was the weather but my eyes began to feel warm and I started crying. I took off my mittens wiping away the tears , telling myself I couldn’t let anyone see me cry over my father, but it was hard to stop loving him.
He used to be my whole world, he used to be able to do no wrong. I mourned that.
I took the keys out of my pocket and went to the car, gently leaning on the horn till Emile and Mr. Fierro came out of the house.
“Emile please get my daughter, I’d like to leave”
Emile returned a few minutes later with Rosalie and put her in the car.
“Is everything alright Clara ?”
“No, can we talk tomorrow”
“I’ll call you”, he said to me as Mr. Fierro reluctantly stepped into the car.
Halfway back to the house Rosalie had fallen asleep I had turned the radio up loud to block out the sound of my occasionally sniffling.
“Ms. DeLune I know what these tears are about”
“No you don’t”, I snapped
“Ms. DeLune I understand you are afraid to see the rest of your family pass as you did your father. Funeral’s are not plesant affairs"
“I’m not afraid. . . it just makes me terribly sad. I just don’t ever want to be without them. One day they are all going to be dead and i'll be-I'll be. . . ”
“Your family is rather close.”, he said as more of an observation., “Maybe it would be easier to distance yourself now before it's too late.”
"What do you mean"
"Save yourself the pain. Leave them before they can leave you, before they notice you are different."
“No. I would never rob them of the time we have left”
"How much time do you think that will be ?"
I bit my lip and kept my eyes foward
I didn't know, I didn't want to answer.
SIS
We drove the rest of the way in silence.
I woke Rosalie up for a few seconds to get her dressed and tucked into bed. I would have thought being in her brightly colored room would make me feel better but it reminded me of the happy childhood that was so far behind me.
“Mommy”, Rose said still half asleep.
“Yes”’, I pulled the quilts over her.
“I think everything is going to be okay”
“Is it ?”
She reached up and put her arms around me I realized that maybe she hadn't been asleep in the car.
I attempted to fall asleep in the cold and extremely lonely guest room, but for some reason my mind went to the locked doors in the house. My mind also kept going back to the set of keys in Mr. Fierro’s bedroom. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do but who knows what I would find behind those locked doors.
Silently I slipped out of bed stepping into the hallway without my shoes. The halls were cold and I didn’t expect the door to his room to be open, but it was.
I didn't know, I didn't want to answer.
SIS
+2+
We drove the rest of the way in silence.
I woke Rosalie up for a few seconds to get her dressed and tucked into bed. I would have thought being in her brightly colored room would make me feel better but it reminded me of the happy childhood that was so far behind me.
“Mommy”, Rose said still half asleep.
“Yes”’, I pulled the quilts over her.
“I think everything is going to be okay”
“Is it ?”
She reached up and put her arms around me I realized that maybe she hadn't been asleep in the car.
I attempted to fall asleep in the cold and extremely lonely guest room, but for some reason my mind went to the locked doors in the house. My mind also kept going back to the set of keys in Mr. Fierro’s bedroom. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do but who knows what I would find behind those locked doors.
Silently I slipped out of bed stepping into the hallway without my shoes. The halls were cold and I didn’t expect the door to his room to be open, but it was.
The room was empty and just as I’d left it last night, the keys were laying next to the record player and what looked like a porcelain d jewelry box, It was a beautiful box. I picked it up and wondered what was in it ? I set it down next to a ring of keys
There were about 20 different keys on the ring, only about five appeared to go to a door but I couldn’t take them off.
Frustrated I took the entire ring, my first thoughts going to the locked door that had frightened Rosalie. I half expected to find a room full of dangerous poison. Maybe surveillance photos of my father ?
The door opened silently to a pitch black room, the floor felt different the tiles were raised and cold but I couldn’t tell what was different. I took another step hoping to find a light instead the ground went out from underneath me.
Instead of hitting something hard , I made an unexpected splash hitting a chilly pool of water. I struggled to resurface for a while when my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the water. I swam around the large indoor pool towards the edge when I heard footsteps.
I held my breath and went beneath the surface just as the lights clicked on. I watched the perfect line of Mr. Fierro's footstesps. He now had the keys I had left in the door in his hands. I noticed how perfectly trimmed his nails were how everything was neat and in order.
For some reason it bothered me.
Perfection bothered me.
I swam closer to the edge and reached for the hand with the keys wrapping my hand around his wrist and pulling him into the water. He lost his balance immediately and fell into the cold water.
Once we had both resurfaced we moved to sit along the edge, watching as the keys sunk to the bottom of the pool. I felt so foolish for thinking there was something hidden in here.
“Aren’t you upset with me?”, I asked , ".I don't know what came over me."
“No”, he said hiding his anger and coughing up more water.
“Why was this door locked anyway ?” it's completely harmless", I said splashing a foot in the water."
“She doesn’t like the water. . . it terrifies her.”
That was why Rosalie was so afraid of this room.
“I think I knew that”, I said watching his profile
“I am sure you did.”
"I hate that I got so emotional earlier in the car, I wish I could have more control. . .like you."
The only sounds now was that of my foot splashing in the water.
“I’ll need to go back home in two days.”, I said keeping my eyes down, "After all I do have a job and my mother must be beside herself with concern.."
His expression darkened
“I understand. I ‘m sorry your time here wasn’t productive.”
“You really think I just came here to blame my father’s murder on you.”, I said still not moving.
“Why else did you come ?”
“i-I don’t know. I suppose I wasn’t sure which life was a lie. The one in New york. . . or this one.”
“Neither one, I would think”
“I saw that picture of Rosalie at the police station and I just missed her.I’ve been thinking. . . I would feel better if I could keep and eye on Rosalie. .. and you. You could keep an eye on me as well if you came back to New York with me. . . well not with me but--”
“That would be beneficial. Though US markets are not as predictable as the LSE” he said more to himself, “. . . and I would like to be closer to this psychic.”
“Whatever for”, I asked, “I thought you were innocent”
“For your sake of course.”, he said finally turning to face me choosing his words carefully, “Ms. DeLune it has occurred to me that due to your father’s death. . . perhaps this gives us a second chance.”
“Hm”, Was all I could think to say,” Careful, Mr. Fierro that is starting to sound a lot like a motive.”
“If it only it were that simple”
“New york is lovely this time of year”, I said changing the subject to weather of all things, "I'm sure you remember"
“I was considering moving someplace warmer for the winter, like Southern Italy.”
“Really ?”
“Yes, you should know Italy is home to the most exquisite things : suits, wine, women . . .”
A strange warmth shivered through my skin and pulled my arms around myself.
“Are you forgetting yourself, Mr. Fierro ?"
“Not entirely”, he said again helping me to stand up and leaving just as quickly. Suddenly I felt more lonely that I had in years.
I reached for a towel drying my hair and clothes slowly making my way back to my room. By the time I had made it to the warmth of the bed I couldn't fall asleep.
Something was happening.
Something was going wrong.
Juliet Wakefield had fallen asleep sometime before 10 p.m. She usually stayed up late even on school days but her history book had lulled her to sleep. She was able to block out the loud music on her ipod and the sounds of her mother’s work out dvds on top volume.
She was peacefully sprawled out on her bed her hands crocked at her sides her legs comfortable fitted to the frame. She was surrounded by pure darkness when something soft touched her face. It felt like snow or a tiny feather. Whatever had fallen was followed by another and another.
Juliet finally reached up and picked up the tiny objects in her hands.
Flower petals
They were light pink and shaped like tiny windmills, the flowers smelled sweet but there was something about them that made her uneasy. She watched as they continued to fall gently coating her in a thin layer. She inhaled deeply completely lost till the last petal fell.
She sat up breaking way from her dream.
The sun had just risen and her alarm clocked blared at 6am
Juliet reluctantly picked up her cell phone and pressed the last number dialed.
“Yes”, said the straight-laced detective on the other end.
“I know what poisoned Mr. DeLune”
“What”, on the other end Detective Rainer reached for a pen and paper
“Oleanders. He was poisoned with flowers.”
A/N
Admittly The scene with Essex was because I for some reason I wanted to write him again. I just like the idea of him and Mr. Fierro being friends. I don't know why.
There were about 20 different keys on the ring, only about five appeared to go to a door but I couldn’t take them off.
Frustrated I took the entire ring, my first thoughts going to the locked door that had frightened Rosalie. I half expected to find a room full of dangerous poison. Maybe surveillance photos of my father ?
The door opened silently to a pitch black room, the floor felt different the tiles were raised and cold but I couldn’t tell what was different. I took another step hoping to find a light instead the ground went out from underneath me.
Instead of hitting something hard , I made an unexpected splash hitting a chilly pool of water. I struggled to resurface for a while when my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the water. I swam around the large indoor pool towards the edge when I heard footsteps.
I held my breath and went beneath the surface just as the lights clicked on. I watched the perfect line of Mr. Fierro's footstesps. He now had the keys I had left in the door in his hands. I noticed how perfectly trimmed his nails were how everything was neat and in order.
For some reason it bothered me.
Perfection bothered me.
I swam closer to the edge and reached for the hand with the keys wrapping my hand around his wrist and pulling him into the water. He lost his balance immediately and fell into the cold water.
Once we had both resurfaced we moved to sit along the edge, watching as the keys sunk to the bottom of the pool. I felt so foolish for thinking there was something hidden in here.
“Aren’t you upset with me?”, I asked , ".I don't know what came over me."
“No”, he said hiding his anger and coughing up more water.
“Why was this door locked anyway ?” it's completely harmless", I said splashing a foot in the water."
“She doesn’t like the water. . . it terrifies her.”
That was why Rosalie was so afraid of this room.
“I think I knew that”, I said watching his profile
“I am sure you did.”
"I hate that I got so emotional earlier in the car, I wish I could have more control. . .like you."
The only sounds now was that of my foot splashing in the water.
“I’ll need to go back home in two days.”, I said keeping my eyes down, "After all I do have a job and my mother must be beside herself with concern.."
His expression darkened
“I understand. I ‘m sorry your time here wasn’t productive.”
“You really think I just came here to blame my father’s murder on you.”, I said still not moving.
“Why else did you come ?”
“i-I don’t know. I suppose I wasn’t sure which life was a lie. The one in New york. . . or this one.”
“Neither one, I would think”
“I saw that picture of Rosalie at the police station and I just missed her.I’ve been thinking. . . I would feel better if I could keep and eye on Rosalie. .. and you. You could keep an eye on me as well if you came back to New York with me. . . well not with me but--”
“That would be beneficial. Though US markets are not as predictable as the LSE” he said more to himself, “. . . and I would like to be closer to this psychic.”
“Whatever for”, I asked, “I thought you were innocent”
“For your sake of course.”, he said finally turning to face me choosing his words carefully, “Ms. DeLune it has occurred to me that due to your father’s death. . . perhaps this gives us a second chance.”
“Hm”, Was all I could think to say,” Careful, Mr. Fierro that is starting to sound a lot like a motive.”
“If it only it were that simple”
“New york is lovely this time of year”, I said changing the subject to weather of all things, "I'm sure you remember"
“I was considering moving someplace warmer for the winter, like Southern Italy.”
“Really ?”
“Yes, you should know Italy is home to the most exquisite things : suits, wine, women . . .”
A strange warmth shivered through my skin and pulled my arms around myself.
“Are you forgetting yourself, Mr. Fierro ?"
“Not entirely”, he said again helping me to stand up and leaving just as quickly. Suddenly I felt more lonely that I had in years.
I reached for a towel drying my hair and clothes slowly making my way back to my room. By the time I had made it to the warmth of the bed I couldn't fall asleep.
Something was happening.
Something was going wrong.
+3+
Juliet Wakefield had fallen asleep sometime before 10 p.m. She usually stayed up late even on school days but her history book had lulled her to sleep. She was able to block out the loud music on her ipod and the sounds of her mother’s work out dvds on top volume.
She was peacefully sprawled out on her bed her hands crocked at her sides her legs comfortable fitted to the frame. She was surrounded by pure darkness when something soft touched her face. It felt like snow or a tiny feather. Whatever had fallen was followed by another and another.
Juliet finally reached up and picked up the tiny objects in her hands.
Flower petals
They were light pink and shaped like tiny windmills, the flowers smelled sweet but there was something about them that made her uneasy. She watched as they continued to fall gently coating her in a thin layer. She inhaled deeply completely lost till the last petal fell.
She sat up breaking way from her dream.
The sun had just risen and her alarm clocked blared at 6am
Juliet reluctantly picked up her cell phone and pressed the last number dialed.
“Yes”, said the straight-laced detective on the other end.
“I know what poisoned Mr. DeLune”
“What”, on the other end Detective Rainer reached for a pen and paper
“Oleanders. He was poisoned with flowers.”
+++
A/N
Admittly The scene with Essex was because I for some reason I wanted to write him again. I just like the idea of him and Mr. Fierro being friends. I don't know why.