A Beauty Dark & Deadly (A Dark & Deadly Series Book 1) (17 page)

He set the plate down.  His smile was too loud for him to hear the rest of the conversation.  He picked up a clean hand towel and started drying the dishes.  He thought he heard her tell her grandfather she missed him and inquire as to how Bingo was, but it didn’t matter.  Nothing mattered because she was beginning to trust him.  It was a cautious sort of trust, but it was something.  And that was all he wanted, really, because he could work with something.  It gave him a small amount of hope that he never expected to have.

He remembered the feeling and decided to bask in it and not think of the future, of the fact that there was a good chance he would lose this hope just as quickly as he gained it.  Instead, he focused on what he did have.  That, and drying the plates without dropping them.

Chapter 9

The storm lasted three days and three nights.  The cabin lost power after the first night.  Just because the weather was bad didn’t mean Rumpel couldn’t go out.  Interestingly enough, it was Emmy who volunteered to walk him in the rain.  They were short and the pair didn’t go too far, but she actually did immerse herself in the storm, always without an umbrella.

Jason watched her go one day, leaning against the door frame so as to not get the full throttle of the water falling.  His eyes could clearly make out Emmy and Rumpel, the only breathing beings out and about.  She seemed to be enjoying herself, what with the wild arm gestures, the jumping up and down (that ultimately led to Rumpel getting excited just as much as she apparently was) and leaning her head back in order to taste the rain on her tongue.  It was in these moments when he realized that while she was much more mature than he expected, there was still an uninhibited part of her that appeared every now and then.  It was hard not to be charmed by her.

When she came in, she was soaked to the bone, her hair sticking to her face, her clothes holding onto her in a way he probably never would.  He met her at the door with a towel and the instructions to take a hot shower while he dried off Rumpel, but he kept the vivid image of her in his mind.  Her eyes sparkled and she smiled as big as he had ever seen.  She was beautiful soaking wet.  She was beautiful when she was blissfully happy, and it would appear that rain inspired such happiness.

His fingers twitched.  He had something to write about.

---

After Emmy hung up the phone after calling her grandfather to tell him the storm had passed and power was restored, Jason came bounding down the stairs in a simple grey-white thermal and loose, dark jeans.  It was the first time she had seen him dressed since they first took Rumpel for a walk and she caught herself taking in the sight.  He was a rather fit man, however lean he might be.  His shoulders were broad and there was actual muscle, especially on his arms. His gaze had the power to garner attention from everyone occupying the room he walked into.  This, of course, made him look more powerful than he actually was.  That, and Emmy had a soft spot for men in thermals.

“I was thinking we could go to the store,” he said when he reached her.

“You’re actually going to the store with me?” she asked in disbelief.  Jason rarely, if ever, left the house.  In fact, the only instances she could remember doing so was when he tended to his garden, when he walked Rumpel, and that one time he picked her up from the trolley station without a car. 

“Well, I’m not going to g
o
i
n
with you, but I figured I could drive you,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“You don’t have to do that,” Emmy said.  “I can walk.  It’s fine.”

“The storm just ended.  I don’t, exactly, trust the trolley system with slick roads and irresponsible tourists who think they can drive in bad weather.  Plus, if it starts raining again, I don’t want you caught in the storm, your arms filled with groceries.”

Her mouth dropped open, prepared to argue with him, but she shut it.  Who was she to tell him to stay inside?  The fact that he was willing to drive into town – whether or not he actually got out of the car – was a big step to reintegrating himself with society.  It was a step in the right direction, and she didn’t want to dissuade him.  As such, she offered him a smile and said, “Okay.  Let me go change and we can go.”

A few minutes later, she, Jason, and Rumpel were loaded into Jason’s old Honda and they headed into town.  The drive was quiet, and Emmy proceeded to look out the window and observe how the locals reacted to the weather.  She was glad Jason decided to drive since the trolley driver’s maintained the same routine despite the bad weather, including the speed and the sharp turns they had to make as the circled the mountain.  They were either really reckless or really familiar with their vehicle.  Jason’s driving was steady but cautious, and she felt secure.

“I’m almost finished with your third book,” she said, turning to him.  She felt her eyes light up while speaking.  She had dived head-first into the world he created and she found it too
irresistible to come up for air anytime soon.  When she wasn’t cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, or walking the dog, Emmy was reading.  Luckily for her, she was currently living with the author and could ask him questions about Stephen Carlyle whenever she wished, but for some reason, he had been sparse the past few days.  “I’ll probably finish the series by next week.”

“Really?”  He smiled at this, and he gave her a quick glance before replacing his eyes back on the road.  “I’m glad you enjoy them.”

“I do.  I really, really do.  But I know you haven’t written anything for a while and I was wondering… Does that mean you’re finished with the Carlyle series?  Or are you working on another one?”

“I can’t tell you that,” he said, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

“Why not?”

“If I said it was the end, you’d expect everything to be resolved at the end of the ninth book,” he explained.  “But what if I left a cliffhanger as the end of the series?  What would you do then, hmm?”

“I’d probably be furious.”

“Exactly.  And you’re living with me at the moment.  I don’t want to answer either way in case you build expectations that aren’t filled and then decide to poison my food.”

Emmy tried to suppress a smile as she shook her head, but failed.  “Will you at least tell me if Stephen and Rosie finally get together?” she asked. 

“Emmy,” he said in a mock-lecturing tone.  “Where would the fun be in that?”

“What’s the fun of living with the writer if you aren’t going to tell me anything?” she asked, her brow pushed up as her cheeks pinched from smiling.

“Once you finish the series, you can ask me whatever you want,” he said, “and, if you’ve found that I have concluded the series, I’ll answer.  But if you’ve found that there will be another one, I’ll only answer what I can without spoiling it.  Deal?”

“I suppose I have no other choice,” Emmy mumbled as Jason pulled into the Raley’s parking lot.

“I’d suppose you’re right,” he said.

Once he slid easily into a stall, he rolled down the back windows even further for Rumpel and pulled out a crossword puzzle book.  Emmy got out of the car, list already out, and after murmuring a quick goodbye, headed into the market.  Since she had the car with her, she decided to get as much as they needed and then some since she wouldn’t have to carry them with her, especially when it came to the heavy things like dog food, milk, and laundry detergent.

Emmy was about fifteen minutes in and nearly three-quarters finished with the list when she nearly ran into Linda Carson.  How was it possible that she ran into Linda at the same grocery store twice in the span of a month?  Her entire body tensed as she stopped the grocery cart.  Maybe if she turned around, Linda wouldn’t notice her.

Emmy expected that this ploy wouldn’t work out.  It never did, not in the television shows, the movies, and the books she had come in contact with.  But somehow it worked.  She did a little skip to celebrate and managed to finish her shopping and pay for her groceries without another run-in with the woman.

It was only as Emmy was heading out of the store did she encounter Linda again.  And she had been so close to the exit, too.

“Emmy?”

Emmy stopped but kept her body facing the exit.  She closed her eyes and released a breath through her nose, hoping that might inspire patience.  She could hear the click-clack of Linda’s telltale heels as they hit the tile, and they got louder and louder until they reached Emmy’s side.  Emmy moved her cart off to the side so she wouldn’t be in anybody’s way, and turned so she was now facing Linda who, for some inexplicable reason, had a look of utter confusion chiseled on her face.

“Yes?” Emmy asked, her voice tight.  She wanted to go back to the car.  She wanted to go back to the cabin.  She did not want to be here with Linda in a grocery store.  People still looked at her and whispered as she walked by.  It happened whenever she shopped, and the more she encountered it, the more she wanted to snap at these people.  How could they continue to talk badly about Jason and pray for her welfare when it was obvious he hadn’t done anything to her and probably wouldn’t.

Oh my.

The thought struck her like a bullet to the heart.  She was so surprised by it, she had to take a step back.

When ha
d
tha
t
happened?

Did she trust that Jason wouldn’t hurt her?  The thought would have made her laugh upon first receiving the job because o
f
cours
e
there was a good chance harm would befall her when everyone knew he killed his wife and her lover.  Now, the thought was funny because Emmy had this feeling that Jason would never harm her.  At least, he gave no indication of wanting to, and somehow, someway, she trusted that feeling more than what everybody said supposedly happened.

“It’s just,” Linda continued, her blue eyes sketching Emmy’s features, searching for something.  She took in Emmy’s face, her neck, even the clothes she was wearing.  They were nothing compared to Linda’s short summer dress, tights, and ankle boots – was the woman not aware that a storm had just ended? – but as far as Emmy was concerned, there was nothing wrong with them.  Finally, after seemingly being unable to find what it was she was searching for, Linda’s eyes made it back up to Emmy’s face.  “I just thought you’d be, like, hurt or something.  If you were still alive at all.”

Emmy pressed her lips into a thin, white line as she wrinkled her brow.  “What?” she asked, sharper than she originally intended.  “I don’t quite understand what you’re trying to say, Linda.”

“I thought it would be obvious,” Linda said in a tone that insinuated Emmy was an idiot for not knowing.  She took a step forward and lowered her voice so nobody would overhear.  It was actually thoughtful since Emmy knew that while everyone appeared to be minding their business at the checkout, they were all trying to listen in on Emmy’s conversation.  “You’re living with Jason Belmont.”

This explained nothing.

“So?”

Apparently, any patience Linda had had gone out the window, because she snorted and then rolled her eyes.  “Please, Emmy, you can’t be this stupid.”  This time, her voice was its regular, projected self.  She had one grocery bag dangling from her manicured fingers.  “Jason Belmont.  The guy who killed his wife.  Is it really a stretch for me to assume that he killed you too, or, at least, I don’t know, beat you or cut off your finger or something?”

This time, Emmy did laugh.  Linda made a grunting noise, indicating that she had taken offense to Emmy’s laughter, but, quite frankly, Emmy didn’t care.  The thought of Jason slicing off her finger was too hilarious not to react.

Linda took a step forward and tilted her head close to Emmy.  “Seriously, Emmy, this is serious,” she said, as though Emmy didn’t know.  “How could you be laughing at something so serious?”

“Linda,” Emmy said, placing a hand on her hip.  “It’s not as serious you’re making it out to be.”

“What are you talking about?” Linda asked in a firm voice.

“You aren’t living with Jason Belmont so don’t pretend like you know what’s going on in his home,” Emmy replied.  Her eyes narrowed.  This wasn’t funny anymore.  “Stop acting like you do.  I don’t care what you’ve heard about him and I don’t care who you’ve heard it from, but I guarantee you’re wrong.  He didn’t kill his wife.  He didn’t kill her boyfriend.  And he’s not going to kill me or hurt me or slice off my finger.”

“Do you even realize what you’re saying, Emmy?  I know you can’t afford cable at your grandfather’s home, but I’m sure you got the local news channel and I’m sure you heard the top media analysts talking about how the evidence against Belmont was overwhelming and a Guilty verdict was almost guaranteed.  Then, lo and behold, he winds up getting away with murder.  Do you understand?
 
He got away with murde
r
.  Not just one, but two.
 
Tw
o
, Emmy.  Yeah, legally, he wasn’t guilty, but that doesn’t mean he’s innocent.  Everyone knows he did it.  Why do you think he hides away in his cabin in the woods?  Because he can’t face the town.  Because he knows what he did and he knows we know.”