Ashes of Roses

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Ashes of Roses Page 3

by Melissa R. L. Simonin


  “All Tony cares about is vindicating himself,” I spoke quickly. “He wasn’t kidding when he said he lost everything. He feels he has nothing left to lose.”

  Miles nodded in acknowledgment.

  “I’m here, so let her go,” Tony said firmly, as he moved forward with measured steps.

  Gabe laughed scornfully.

  “And why on earth would I do that?”

  “Self-preservation,” Tony replied. “You’ve got nothing to gain, here. You let her go, and you’ve still got a chance to talk your way out of this. It’s all a game, right? You like a challenge. So let her go, and start talking. Convince everyone the recording was falsified, that I’m still the bad guy, and you’re the hero. Or is this a challenge that’s more than you can handle? Maybe you have your limits, after all.”

  Gabe considered that as Tony slowly moved closer.

  “Yes… I could do that,” Gabe said. “But I believe this time, I’ll try something new.”

  The bride screamed as Gabe pulled the trigger, and another blast and the smell of gunpowder singed the air. She screamed again, and fell to the floor amid a myriad of panicked cries, as some renewed their efforts to escape. Gabe’s eyes were mocking as he raised the gun and aimed at Tony, who though shaken, held his ground.

  “She isn’t injured,” Miles felt compelled to point out, though his eyes never left the scene.

  The bride didn’t seem to realize, the way she was carrying on. I could sympathize, having been there myself, although when I thought I was shot, I didn’t make nearly as much noise.

  “She would be, if it wasn’t for you,” I said.

  “If anyone believes Gabe Barclay over Tony Allen after this, then… I’ll be inclined to believe their ignorance is intentional,” Miles replied.

  The bride continued to wail and shriek.

  “SHUT UP!” Gabe shouted. He swiftly took aim at his bride yet again, as Tony practically hurtled across the distance that separated them. As Gabe fired, Tony slammed into his chest with his shoulder.

  “I have a feeling he’ll wonder later, how he managed to move so fast,” I commented, and Miles just smiled.

  Gabe was hurled backward, and the gun went flying. He hit a table and stopped, so Tony hauled off and slugged him. The gun landed in the punch bowl, and Gabe’s eyes rolled back, along with his head. He crumpled to the floor.

  “That, I had nothing to do with,” Miles said, as he removed his phone from his pocket. “While I call the sheriff’s office, text John, and tell him to assure any concerned guests that the situation is under control, and to escort the deputies to ballroom one when they arrive. Also let him know the reception attendees would benefit from Xander’s presence, as well as that of Troy, Stanley, James, and Eric.”

  “Got it,” I said, as I rapidly did so.

  Tony stood guard over the prostrate Gabe, who had yet to move. Several of the men cautiously rose to their feet, as they eyed the downed shooter warily. Avery’s parents hovered over her anxiously, as they alternated between attempting to be strong, and giving in to heartbroken sobs.

  “Tell me what I need to know before we go in,” Miles said.

  “Other than the omission of the truth that Tony was a loyal and exemplary employee who was set up, the articles are correct. Mr. Foster believed Gabe, and refused to hear Tony out. The same for Avery. Tony pressed repeatedly for a chance to defend himself, and because Gabe claimed he was being stalked by Tony, and backed that claim by spoofing his number and placing calls to himself and the Fosters, they joined him in seeking restraining orders. Mr. Foster saw that Tony was arrested and tried for embezzlement, then sued for damages. Tony was found guilty, he had a terrible attorney, and Gabe manipulated records so it wasn’t completely impossible to believe he was. Proof by preponderance of the evidence is all that’s necessary in cases of stealing from an employer, not proof beyond a reasonable doubt. Tony was left with nothing but a prison record, and debt he could never pay. He was found guilty of intentional wrongdoing, so bankruptcy wouldn’t relieve him of that burden, or the interest accrued by it. Tony was left with no job, and no career. He lost his house, his car, and he’s been living temporarily with a friend, but he knows he can’t keep on that way. He looks ahead and sees no future and no hope. He didn’t want to be arrested again for trying to contact the Fosters directly, and his attempts to get a copy of the recording to them either failed, or were ignored. So he convinced Joe, a friend and one-time coworker, to play it when they would have no choice but to hear.”

  “I know Tony was entertaining thoughts of killing Gabe, but… I feel sick for the guy. I can relate to him in a lot of ways. Is he someone we can trust?”

  “Steve felt desperate enough to think killing his brother-in-law was the only answer, and we didn’t fire him for it. We’ll invite Tony for an interview, and find out,” I replied.

  “Alright. Then is that it?” Miles asked.

  “That’s it,” I said.

  “Then let’s go.”

  Miles opened the door, and holding my hand, we entered the chaotic scene. Many people were crying, and quite a few remained face down on the floor, unsure whether the lack of gun shots and yelling was a good sign, or not. Others were desperate to open the door into the hall. At last it did open, and Xander entered, along with the rest of the guys Miles requested.

  “Everyone please be calm, and return to your seats,” Miles said. He didn’t use the tone that no one dares argue with, but the advent of a new voice, and one with authority, got most of them back in their seats.

  We were joined by Xander, Troy, Stanley, James, and Eric, all of whom had to really wonder what was going on.

  “The groom failed to shoot the bride, though not for lack of trying. Make certain no one’s been injured, and assure everyone that the danger is over, and the authorities are on the way,” Miles instructed, and they nodded.

  To their credit, they asked for no further elaboration. If they didn’t figure out what happened through their interaction with the reception attendees, we’d fill them in later.

  We continued to the bride and her family.

  “I can’t feel anything,” she gasped weakly, as her parents sobbed.

  “That’s because you weren’t shot,” I said. She looked at me and frowned, and her parents looked confused. I looked back. “That white dress would be covered in red, if you were.”

  At least I was wearing all black when I thought I was shot, plus I was drenched with water.

  Avery looked down at her dress, as did her parents. She slowly sat up, and felt her side.

  “But, I—” she said, utterly baffled.

  “How—how—” Mr. Foster stuttered, as he tried to fathom the impossible turn the laws of physics took in order to achieve that.

  “What matters, is that your husband didn’t manage to shoot you, despite his best efforts,” I said.

  “If Tony didn’t put himself in harm’s way and knock the gun out of his hand, he might have succeeded,” Miles pointed out. “You owe him more than an apology.”

  “That’s the truth,” I said.

  The Fosters looked over at Tony, as Xander handed him a cloth napkin filled with ice. He held it to his knuckles as they spoke quietly, and kept an eye on the unconscious Gabe. Several of the groomsmen were doing the same.

  Mr. Foster looked up at us in confusion.

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Miles Bannerman, and this is my wife, Anika. We own the Lodge. When we were made aware just minutes ago of the contents of the video recording and the events leading up to it, we approved Tony’s request to air it.”

  “His previous attempts to provide you with a copy failed, and he had to be careful since you have restraining orders against him,” I said. “He suffered enough through no fault of his own, he didn’t care to be arrested—again—for attempting to do the right thing.”

  The Fosters glanced away. I was pretty sure it was shame I saw on their faces.

  “A lot of guys w
ouldn’t have bothered,” I added. “It’s not like he doesn’t have his own insurmountable problems to worry about, considering he lost absolutely everything when he was falsely accused and found guilty of embezzlement, and then stalking, then sued for damages he never inflicted.”

  “It would be wise to see that the judgment against him is overturned, his record cleared, his losses restored, and his attorney fees paid,” Miles stated.

  “Tony!” Avery scrambled to her feet, which was no small task considering her voluminous skirt. She clutched his arm, as he joined me and Miles. “Oh, Tony! You saved my life!”

  Her eyes were starry, but there were no corresponding stars in his own.

  “Well… you’re welcome,” he replied evenly. “I did what anybody should’ve done.”

  “Yet he’s the only one who did,” I enjoyed pointing out.

  Miles made sure he got there in time, but Tony started moving on his own. A lot of other people were closer, but no one else made an effort to intervene.

  “We owe you our sincerest thanks,” Mr. Foster said, as he and Mrs. Foster rose to their feet. Miles raised an eyebrow, and Mr. Foster hurried to add to that. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am, how sorry we all are. I promise, we’ll make it up to you.”

  I didn’t see any darkness, but I did see a flash of anger in Tony’s eyes.

  “I can’t imagine how,” he replied coolly.

  Neither could I, but if at the very least Mr. Foster didn’t take Miles’ suggestions, I had a feeling our law firm would leave him wishing he had.

  Several sheriff deputies arrived, and once they were certain no hazard remained, the EMTs entered. There were no physical injuries to speak of, although when Gabe came to, that very nearly changed. Mr. Foster offered to mete out justice personally, but as the deputies were determined to interfere, he satisfied himself with ripping the wedding certificate to shreds, and hurling it at his son-in-law. Or was the marriage valid after all, if the certificate was never filed? I had no idea, but the bride seemed to find it hard to accept Tony’s complete lack of interest in picking up where they left off. She confused his motivation to do the honorable thing, with acting out of love. Mr. Foster was also surprised when Tony turned down his offer of reemployment. Yes, Tony proved to be trustworthy. They did not.

  Before the very long event drew to a close, I learned enough for us to feel comfortable telling Tony we had a place for him, if he was interested. He is. He’s also our guest at the Lodge for the time being, until he gets back what was taken from him financially. By the time we were finally able to retire to our own suite for a late night dinner with our friends, we were satisfied his world was on the way to being set right.

  “I can’t get over how different all that could’ve ended,” Xander marveled, as we dug into our room service orders. “Both guys had guns, at one point.”

  “Did Gabe intend to shoot Avery, all along?” Annette wondered.

  “I doubt it,” I replied. “He was carrying the gun in case Tony showed up. That’s what he told his groomsmen.”

  “There was no opportunity to question him directly,” Miles added. “But you’re absolutely right, with both men armed and desperate, in a crowded room, there’s no doubt it would’ve ended very differently.”

  “Thank goodness you walked into the Lodge when you did,” Jenny said with a shudder.

  “It was ordained,” I replied. “It is, anytime a case is set before us. Those that involve prevention, are definitely my favorite.”

  “It’s disturbing what Gabe said about his first wife, though,” John remembered with concern. “Is that your next case? Or part of this one?”

  I frowned a little as I thought about that.

  “Well… my truth ability only works when I hear something directly, not over the phone or in a recording. There was definite darkness when Gabe shot at Avery, and that didn’t dissipate when his efforts were foiled. He was still enshrouded in it when he was wheeled out. But before that… there was no darkness. Not the kind I can see.”

  Everyone’s eyebrows either rose, or knit at that.

  “Really,” Miles said in surprise. “Then… if he did indeed have a first wife, he didn’t kill her.”

  “Oh, man,” Xander said, and he started to laugh. John pulled out his phone, and began a search.

  “He was married previously,” John confirmed. “She did die. But if he didn’t do it… ”

  “Was she murdered?” Miles asked.

  “No…” John replied slowly, as he read. “There’s no cause listed in the obituary, but no articles about her being murdered, either.”

  “That’s good, but still so sad,” Jenny lamented, and we all felt appropriately somber at the loss of life.

  “Yeah, but it serves him right,” Xander said, and we gave him a funny look. “Aw, come on. Don’t you see? This guy makes a habit of falsely accusing others, and ruining their lives. It’s kind of hilarious that he falsely accused himself of murder, on camera. Whatever the determination was in his first wife’s death, that case just got reopened. He better hope there’s nothing even a little suspicious about it, or he could end up convicted of her murder.”

  “Oh my goodness,” I laughed as I realized, and so did everyone else. “He said it to goad Tony, I’m sure Gabe thought he still loved Avery.”

  “My, how that has backfired,” Annette noted with satisfaction.

  “That’s poetic justice for you,” John declared.

  We all agreed.

  “So… what about Avery and Tony?” Annette wondered. “Do you think they’ll end up back together?”

  “No,” I said with certainty. “She burned that bridge to the ground. She can forget convincing him to rebuild.”

  “Not all relationships deserve a second chance,” Jenny said.

  She looked calm enough, but I wondered if she was thinking of her abusive father. If she and her mom never saw him again, they’d be only too happy.

  “Here’s to good relationship material,” I said, as I raised my water bottle.

  “Something we’ve all found in each other,” Miles finished for me.

  “Hear, hear,” our friends heartily agreed, and we clinked—or more like, thunked—bottles.

  It was late when we began dinner, and even later by the time we finished catching up, and hashing out the evening’s events. We had church to get up for in the morning, and Miles and I had unpacking to do, so finally we all called it a night.

  After taking our dogs on a quick walk, we curled up on the couch, Miles with a stack of mail on his lap, and me with a huge plate of wedding cake on mine. Jenny made it, after all, and no way was I letting it go to waste!

  “Anything important?” I asked, as I watched him open envelopes, then sort and arrange their contents in orderly piles on the coffee table. Night wanted very much to help rearrange those, but finally gave up on finding a gap in Miles’ forcefield, and joined the other kids in front of the fire that crackled cheerfully in the sitting room fireplace.

  “Important… yes,” Miles answered. “Interesting… not so much.”

  “If I wasn’t too wired to sleep, I’d suggest leaving it for tomorrow,” I said, as I took another bite of the scrumptious cake. Miles smiled. He looked like something was funny.

  “Are you gearing up to stay awake all night, by adding a major sugar rush to the evening’s events?”

  “Maybe,” I laughed. “Or maybe I’m proving it’s possible to have your cake, and eat it too. Or the Foster-Barclay cake, anyway. The thing’s huge.”

  “The guests weren’t left with much of an appetite, were they,” Miles agreed. “Rather than leave you to consume the whole thing on your own, allow me to assist.”

  “Alright, but only because I love you so much,” I said magnanimously, and prepared to share. But he didn’t take the fork I held out, after all. I peered over the sizeable mound of cake, at the paper he was now studying so intently.

  “Find something interesting, after all?” I asked.
>
  “Hmm,” Miles said, as he read whatever was written on the thick, extremely fancy letterhead. An equally fancy, wax-sealed inner envelope lay on the arm of the couch, beside him. The outer envelope showed no return address on the front, but the post mark wasn’t local, or even national. Not our nation, anyway.

  “What is that?” I asked, as I got back to my cake.

  “This…” Miles seemed lost in thought for a moment, as he read. “You know, we just completed a case. One involving darkness, no less.”

  “That’s true,” I acknowledged.

  “Per our agreement, we’re obligated to schedule some time away,” he reminded me.

  “I guess,” I considered, though doubtfully. “This didn’t take a whole lot out of me.”

  “Still, our agreement didn’t stipulate how long, or how complicated the case has to be. Only that we take some time off for rest and relaxation, after.”

  “Okay… then what do you have in mind?” I wondered. “Ooh! Is our fortress ready?”

  “Just about. We could stop off there. We probably should at some point, but this is something else.”

  “Then what?” I asked again.

  “We’ve been invited for a visit,” Miles said.

  “By who?” I wondered in surprise.

  Miles referred to the letter in his hand.

  “Lady Lucinda Carlisle, and her son Sir Edmund.”

  “And… we know them, how?”

  “We… don’t,” Miles replied. “It would appear they’d like to change that.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “I never thought of you as vengeful, but if you drag this out any further, I may change my mind,” I declared.

  “That’s not the truth,” he managed to say without laughing, though there was a definite gleam of amusement in his gorgeous hazel eyes. “You know me better than that, no matter how tortured I often am waiting for the truth to be revealed. I know you well enough to know I don’t want to know what will happen if I keep you in suspense any longer, so… you can read the details for yourself. But this, is where we’ve been invited to visit.”

  Miles held the heavy page so I could see it without craning my neck, and pointed to the pen and ink image of a large estate at the top of the letterhead. I didn’t have to wonder for long what I was looking at, or what the significance was, because beneath it, in flowery calligraphy, the imposing building was identified, as…

 

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