A Beauty Dark & Deadly (A Dark & Deadly Series Book 1) (2 page)

Instead of retreating to the whole of the room, however, Emmy’s curious eyes began to survey her view.  There was a very small vegetable garden located in a pocket against the house.  Her brows pushed together as she regarded the juicy tomatoes, the small patch of carrots, and the tall, gold maize.  She had never been talented at gardening; that had been her grandfather’s forte.  Besides the garden, the cabin was surrounded by forest; tall trees that blocked the sunlight and provided a good portion of shade during the hot summer months.  It also hid the cabin from view.  It took Emmy a good twenty minutes of mindless searching until she spotted the nearly camouflaged red-bricked chimney upon first coming here.  The main road was about a mile north, but there were many dirt trails leading every which way.  Never good with direction, the young woman noted not to try and follow a trail by herself; despite how much it had been traveled by, she was certain that she would most definitely get lost.  Finally, she could make out a very small sliver of a nearby lake, the sun’s rays pressing down on the water and causing it to sparkle.

A dejected sort of grumble pressed itself against the inside of Emmy’s throat.  She had prided herself on being a city girl (although, if she was telling the truth, she was really more a suburb girl).  Originally from Newport Beach, California, she moved up to live with her grandfather in San Francisco just after her high school graduation.  Currently, she was taking classes at San Francisco State, majoring in sociology.  Now, after she had decided to prolong her senior year to take this job, she found herself in a small town, practically isolated from the world.  The fact that she was shacked up with a maybe murderer was definitely not helping things.

Emmy turned at that moment and decided that now was as good time as any to begin to unpack.  She entertained the thought of grabbing her iPod and listen to music as she did so but ultimately decided against it.  Jason Belmont might sneak up behind her and slit her throat if she wasn’t always on her guard.  With that, she pulled both suitcases over to her dresser and began moving her clothes from the bags to the insides of the drawers.  It took her about a half an hour to complete the transition, and when she finished, she pushed the empty bag underneath her bed.

There were still a couple of items left in the second bag, and she quickly pulled them out and put them around the room.  A couple of books and a framed picture of her with her grandfather were placed on the surface of the nightstand.  Her journal and her writing utensils were slipped in the nightstand drawer.  Finally, her laptop was placed on top of the dresser.  She highly doubted there was any internet access here, but she did have over three thousand songs on iTunes.  Since she knew there was really nothing to do here, she would be listening to each song in a manner of days.

At that moment, she thought that she should call her grandfather and let him know that she was okay.  She grabbed her purse while simultaneously slipping the second bag underneath the bed, adjacent to the first one.  Once her cell phone was securely in her hand, she flipped it open and realized she had no service whatsoever.  She whispered a swear word and set the phone on top of the small stack of books.  Running her hands through her hair, she realized that she would have to ask Jason where the phone was (if he eve
n
ha
d
a phone), and if she could use it.  Originally, Emmy had wanted to avoid the man as much as she possibly could, but she had promised her grandfather that she would call.  Emmy never had and never would break a promise to her grandfather.

“Okay,” she whispered to herself as she slowly rose from the bed.  “You can do this.”

Emmy proceeded cautiously out her door.  She tried as hard as she could to make sure she didn’t push down on the floor with all her weight so the floor wouldn’t creak.  Her heartbeat was hammering, but she couldn’t rationalize why.  He couldn’t
–
wouldn’
t
– kill her.  He needed her help, which was why he had hired her.  And even if he could get away with murder once, there was no way he could get away with it again.  Plus, he had no reason to kill her.  She was an innocent bystander.  At least, with his ex-wife and her lover, there had been some sort of motive.  He wasn’t unhinged, per se… just uncontrollably upset.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, Emm
y
, she thought to herself and physically stopped in mid-step so that she might get a hold of herself.
 
Did you just defend him?

It had to be the air, she reasoned and continued to head in the direction of Jason’s office.

When she finally reached the
second door on the right,
she realized it had been left slightly ajar.  She tilted her head to the side and tried to peer into the dark room.  Emmy had no idea why the room was so dark; it hurt her eyes to type in dim lighting and here he was, sitting in pitch blackness.  A soft scent bristled against her small nose, and she scrunched it in disgust without even thinking, immediately recognizing it.  The man was a smoker.  He was currently slouching over his keyboard, staring blankly at what appeared to be a blank word document.  His thick-rimmed glasses had slid down the bridge of his nose until it was resting dangerously on the curves of his nostrils.  He was chewing his bottom lip, obviously frustrated with himself, with the black, white screen, or maybe both.

Maybe now wasn’t the best time to bother him…

“Did you need something?” Jason asked. He appeared at the door before Emmy even noticed and was now staring at her through the open space the door provided.

Her heart
jumped into her throat as she pressed her lips together to contain her impending squeak.  She glanced at him, the door now halfway open, as he regarded her with a curious stare.  He didn’t appear to be angry.

“I, uh,” she said, her voice still shaky.  Immediately, Emmy closed her mouth and her eyes, trying to calm herself down.  She forced a tight smile as she reopened her eyes and looked up at him.  “I don’t have any service.”  This time, her voice came out a bit smoother.  “On my cell phone, I mean.  I was wondering if I could use your phone to call my grandfather and let him know I’m alive
–
all righ
t
!  I mean all right.”  She didn’t need a mirror to know that her face was changing into an unattractive shade of red, much like a chameleon might if he was sitting on top of a big, juicy tomato.

“Yeah, of course,” Jason said, shaking his head as if the thought should have crossed his mind before.  “There’s one down the stairs on the coffee table.”  Emmy was about to turn and head down the stairs but Jason stopped her with the sound of him clearing his throat.  She waited expectantly and he raised his brows.  “This is actually really silly.  I don’t even know your name…”  He let his voice trail off and continued to stare at her.

“Oh,” Emmy said, and then due to habit, stuck out her right hand.  “I’m Emmy, Emmy Atler.”

Jason grinned at her, clearly amused, and then took her hand in his before shaking it.  “Belmont,” he said in what Emmy assumed was his most suave voice, “Jason Belmont.” 

The young woman had to refrain from rolling her eyes.  Her father had been a James Bond fan, and whenever he introduced himself to any of her friends, he would use the same ploy.  It had been embarrassing then, but now she missed it. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, breaking out of her revelries.

She slipped her hands from his.  “Likewise,” she murmured, and then turned, this time successfully heading down the stairs.

Emmy was not exactly paying attention to her surroundings.  She only had one goal in mind, and that was to find the phone Jason had told her about and talk to her grandfather.  Her grandfather had a voice that could calm her down, no matter how sad or how upset she might be.  It soothed her to no end and especially came in handy when she had found out her parents had died.  For the two months after she arrived, he would read stories to her before she went to bed, staying with her until she fell asleep.  It didn’t matter that she had been eighteen then and storytelling was reserved for children younger than her; all that mattered was that she was comfortable
,
saf
e
, if only for a bit.  Emmy, now, felt as though she needed her grandfather’s voice.  She had been on edge all day, every minute of being in this house, and hoped that maybe her grandfather would be able to help her.

The young woman took a seat on the couch and immediately noticed what appeared to be a groove in the shape of a body that seemed permanently etched in the couch.  The man couldn’t even sleep in his bedroom.  What Emmy couldn’t understand was, if Jason Belmont was so uncomfortable here, why didn’t he just up and leave?  He was a successful author; it wasn’t as though he couldn’t afford it.

Just like the author said, a beige telephone sat on the wooden coffee table.  It was sort of old fashioned; the phone was not cordless or anything.  Emmy didn’t really care.  As long as it worked, that was all that mattered.  However, when she picked up the phone and placed it to her ear, the sound of silence greeted her.  There was not even a dial tone.  Furrowing her brow, she hung up the phone and then tried again.  Still nothing.  Her eyes began to search the phone’s surroundings until she saw the cause of the problem.  The phone line had been pulled out of the jack and was currently occupying the blue rug underneath the table.

Well, that was odd.  It almost appeared as though Jason Belmont had pulled it out on purpose, as though he didn’t want any phone calls.  Maybe the ringing interrupted his writing, but then again, it wasn’t as though he had been writing, from what Emmy could see.  Maybe it was something else then…

It didn’t matter, however.  Emmy slipped the cord into the jack and picked up the phone once again.  This time, however, the dial tone overtook the silence, much like church bells on a quiet Sunday morning.  She smiled as her fingers hurriedly dialed her grandfather’s phone number… her old phone number before coming here.

He answered on the second ring.  Just hearing his voice caused Emmy’s heart to flutter and a smile crossed over her features before she could actually respond to him.

“Papa?” she asked him softly, hopefully, as though maybe she was just dreaming.  It was an odd feeling; she had seen him just this morning, and yet she felt as though she hadn’t spoken to him in quite a while.

“Emmy?” he asked, and as he continued to speak, she could detect the hint of his notorious mischievous smile.  “How’s my baby doll?  Obviously, you’re still alive, so that’s a good sign.”

Emmy giggled at her grandfather’s attempt at a joke and mindlessly brushed errant strands of hair from her face as she felt her body finally relax.  “Yes, I’m here,” she murmured almost wistfully into the phone.  “I wanted to tell you that I made it and that I did get the job.”

“Well, that’s not really much of a surprise, now is it?” he asked.  “So how is old Tahoe?  I haven’t been up there since you were, oh, maybe ten or eleven.  I remember I would take you up there to camp, just us two.  No parents allowed.”  Emmy smiled at the memories but said nothing in return.  Currently, she didn’t trust her voice.  “How’s that kook-author living up there?  You know I’ve heard stories about him, Emmy.  Everyone thinks you’re crazy for going up there…”

“I know, I know,” Emmy said through a sigh, making a conscious effort to keep her voice down.  She didn’t want Jason Belmont to overhear her conversation, or worse, creep up behind her and scare the life out of her.  “I don’t exactly know what to make of him, Papa.  I mean, from what I’ve seen, he’s just uncomfortable.  He’s unkempt and he walks around in this old tattered robe and his hair isn’t brushed and he smokes!  I get this weird vibe from him, but I don’t know if it’s good or if it’s bad.”  Another sigh escaped from her lips as she glanced around suspiciously.  Yup; still alone.  “But, having said that, he’s been polite.  I kind of… I kind of feel bad for him.”

“You always feel bad for people,” her grandfather said, chuckling, and though Emmy could not see him, she was sure he was shaking his head.  “Well, I should let you get going.  Now, you be careful Emmy.  And you call me if you need anything, day or night, you hear?”

“Yes,” Emmy replied.  “Oh, and Papa; my cell phone doesn’t get any reception up here so I’ll make sure to call you tomorrow and give you the number here if you ever need me.”  He chuckled again, and her heart clenched.  She knew she would have to hang up soon, despite the fact that she really did not want to.  “I, uh…”  Her voice came out shaky, but not because she was afraid.  She swallowed, trying to collect her bearings.  “I miss you, Papa.”

“And you know I miss you, baby doll,” he told her, his voice growing softer.  “Call me when you can.”  He paused, and in the silence, Emmy prayed that it might just last forever so she wouldn’t have to hang up.  “I love you, sugar.”