“And he’s with a woman. And I see them. They don’t see me. I think, well, it’s crazy but I think I’m like a servant or something. And they don’t see me or they don’t care that I’m around. I exist but I’m not important. But, and Mr. Dempsey, this is disturbing as well as weird and it’s the reason I went to Dr. Holmes. I asked around, who to talk to because I’m scared to go to sleep, it’s that disturbing. And this is because, first, okay, I know you said don’t say anything is crazy but this is. See, she’s a witch. An… actual… hocus pocus witch. And worse,” she cried, warming to her theme, “they’re plotting a murder. The murder of two children and a woman. And the woman’s name is Brenna.”
By the time she was finished, Mickey had thrown money on the bar and was on his way to the door.
“Ms. Richardson,” he said into his phone as he made his way across the pub toward the door that would lead him to the driving rain outside, “start at the beginning, don’t leave anything out, don’t hesitate and tell me everything.”
Twenty minutes later, Mercy Richardson had told Mickey Dempsey everything.
Five minutes after that, when Dempsey was unable to get Jack Bennett on the phone, he called a mate of his who was a pilot and he pulled in a favour.
Five minutes after that, he was headed to the airstrip.
* * * * *
Jack
“Poppet, have you seen my phone?” Jack called as he entered his and Belle’s room at The Point.
“No,” she called back through the closed door to the bathroom.
Jack stopped in the room and looked around.
Something was wrong and it was more than the something he’d felt was wrong the entirety of the six weeks since they dispelled Caldwell’s spirit from Miles and even more than the something that had been nagging his gut all day.
As he took in their room, it hit him.
The dogs were not there.
This wasn’t unusual but it was rare. If they weren’t with him then they were with Belle. Or, oftentimes, Baron was with him and Gretl was with Belle.
But usually one or the other of them were close.
“If you need a phone, honey, mine’s in my bag on the bed,” Belle continued to talk through the door.
Jack moved to her bag on the bed, seeing some of the contents scattered over the duvet as he called out to Belle, “Do you know where the dogs are?”
“They’re not with you?”
That nag in his gut clawed deeper as Jack sorted through her stuff on the bed and in her bag but found no phone.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, rounding the bed and pulling the house phone from its charger as he called back, “No, they’re not with me.”
He wasn’t surprised when he hit the on button on the phone, put it to his ear and found it dead. He wasn’t surprised because five minutes before when he’d been unable to locate his mobile, he’d tried this in his study.
His eyes moved to the windows to see the rain driving against the panes.
And he wasn’t surprised the house phone was dead because it happened often during storms.
They were due to meet the others in the drawing room shortly for pre-dinner drinks so he gave up on making a call that could wait but was about to go in search of the dogs when the door to the bathroom opened and Belle walked out.
Jack stopped dead and stared.
She was wearing a flowing, full-length gown of smoky, dark grey, the colour and fabric rich, striking and perfect for her.
One shoulder was bared, the dress held up over her other shoulder with a thick twist of the fabric that gathered the material tight across her chest and midriff, drawing attention to the sleek line of her neck, the elegant drape of her shoulders and the delicate length of her collarbone. The full, fluid fall of her skirt dropped to her feet which were encased in spike-heeled, black satin sandals with fragile-looking straps, the ones over her red-painted toes embedded with rhinestones.
Her glorious hair was pulled up from her neck and away from her face but fat curls dangled from the arrangement and there were thick tendrils resting against the long line of her neck.
She was also wearing the diamonds he’d given her after she’d flown with him to London and spent the weekend with him there. An event that happened the weekend previous. It was his congratulations gift to her for not losing her mind during the flight. She didn’t enjoy it with abandoned glee but she did control her fears and eventually relaxed and settled in.
The jewellery included a necklace that was one row ring of diamonds that sat at the base of her throat starting with a somewhat large but by no means ostentatious gem in the middle that became smaller as they rounded her neck. It had a matching bracelet, all the same size diamonds, and two carat diamond studs for her ears.
Although not ostentatious, as would not befit Belle, there were enough of them and all of them were of the finest quality that the entirety cost a small fortune.
On his Belle wearing that gown, it was a dazzling display.
And last, on her left ring finger was the reason Joy insisted, regardless of Jack’s continued concern about the fact they had not discovered Caldwell’s plans or sent Myrtle and Lewis home, that they have the small, intimate dinner party they were having that night.
His engagement ring. A Bennett heirloom cluster of diamonds surrounding a large cushion-cut diamond in the middle.
It was the reason for their trip to London the weekend before. It was the ring he slid on her finger when he’d officially asked her to marry him and she’d done exactly what she told him she’d do and immediately said yes. That was after she burst into tears but before she’d thrown herself in his arms and kissed him.
The dress she was wearing that she designed, the casual elegance with which she wore it and her unassuming beauty was what she gave him. The diamonds were what Jack could give her. The contentment registering in her eyes and her ease in her surroundings was what they could give each other.
All of it in one beautiful, shapely, petite woman. She embodied everything not only good and right between them but also, Jack thought uncharacteristically dramatically, in the entire f**king world.
“Weird, where are the dogs?” she asked, looking around and, for some adorable reason, twitching her wrist with the diamond bracelet on it.
“Belle, come here.”
His voice was thick, deeper than normal, strange and likely because of it, her eyes shot to him. Then she stopped moving and studied him.
“Are you okay?” she asked, tipping her head to the side.