“Welcome to Naples, Miss...,” he trailed off, smiling awkwardly. I grabbed his hand, giving it as firm a shake as I could manage.
“Abigail. Abigail Bean,” I said before I could chicken out. The shop owner knowing my name could work in my favor potentially, or it could do just the opposite. I wasn’t going to overthink it too much.
“Are you here for some of my wife’s famous cookies?” He prompted, grabbing a basket from behind the counter and holding it out. I was almost afraid I would be poisoned, but when Isabella eagerly gobbled three down in rapid succession, I decided to risk it. I hummed in pleasure at the taste, my eyes fluttering shut.
“This guy is full of stories. Tell her about the uh... the stone! The sword stone!” Isabella exclaimed eagerly. The man looked hesitant, but it seemed that he could resist the former tour guide about as well as I could.
“Oh, the stone of fire. It’s not much of a story...” he trailed off, tapping his fingertips on the counter. “It was said to be born of the mantle of Vesuvius. A local family was chosen to keep watch over it, but that was eons ago. The story is that it is hidden away, somewhere near its birthplace. Thousands have tried to find it, but one can’t simply find the stone for the sake of finding it. The stone must choose you, determine if you are worthy, and pure of wicked intent,” he explained, getting into the story a bit more as he told it. “Martin always presses me for details. I almost think he’s looking for the stone. There’s something about that man that makes you want to give in to his desires. There’s something about him that... smells like...,” he trailed off again, resting his chin in his hand.
“Home.” Isabella supplied.The man nodded, and I hesitated a moment, wondering if this was the possible breakthrough I needed.
“Is Martin a customer of yours?” I pressed, smiling innocently as the shop owner looked at me.
“One of many, Miss Bean. I care very deeply for my regulars and their privacy, but...,” he sighed before continuing. “If the stories about the stone are true, I am sure he will be unable to find it. He doesn’t strike me as the type to be pure of heart. As much as it pains me to say it, just the opposite seems true. You didn’t hear that from me, though,” he smiled, offering me a little wink. As much as I knew I should rush home and tell Agnes everything that I’d been told, something was holding me back. This situation seemed too convenient, almost predetermined... as if it were meant for me to hear. I didn’t suspect Isabella of any ill will, nor the shop owner, really. At least, not intentionally...
Chapter Sixteen
I couldn’t help fretting in the passenger seat of Isabella’s car as she drove me back in the direction of Stefan’s estate. The former tour guide idly munched on one of the cookies the shop owner had given her, steering one handed while occasionally glancing towards me from the corner of her eye. She frowned, looking torn as to whether or not she actually wanted to speak—not that I expected her words to be of much comfort. It wasn’t like I blamed her for my shortcomings in discovering whatever it was that Agnes wanted me to find, but I was still caught up in my own bitterness. I wasn’t exactly prepared to face the elder woman, but as much as I wanted to beg Isabella to take me somewhere else-—anywhere else, I knew better than to avoid the inevitable.
“Feel free to blame me,” the former tour guide said abruptly, taking another large bite of her snack. I glanced to her with a curious expression, and she seemed utterly apathetic to my gaze. Could she truly not see how important this was to me? I couldn’t simply lie to Agnes, it would surely find me jobless. “You’re overthinking it, Little Bean. Aggie won’t blame you too terribly. Believe it or not, I think she’s pretty soft on you,” she continued idly, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. I huffed softly, crossing my arms over my chest. I could recognize the streets leading back to Stefan’s estate, and as tempted as I was to fling myself out of the car, I could only hope she was right—to some extent or another.
“You seem awfully confident in your theory. Agnes doesn’t seem the type to just entertain any little fool who crosses her door frame,” I said bleakly, and Isabella chortled a bit.
“Any little fool, hmmm?” She mused aloud, glancing at me with a cheeky smile. “You don’t think very highly of yourself, do you?” She observed. I scowled, staring out the window as I tried to come up with a response that didn’t seem horribly depressing. I wasn’t a self loathing person by any means, but I couldn’t deny that this whole experience seemed beyond my means. I was average in every sense of the word—there was nothing special about me. Figuring out the puzzles Agnes had laid out for me seemed so minor in the scheme of this whole job—though I’d yet to figure out the true purpose of my job.
“I have no reason to have a high opinion of myself, Isabella. I’m not like you. I’m not blessed with some rich heritage or extravagant inheritance. I’m not like Agnes either—I could never aspire to be as brilliant as she is. I can barely keep up, and she’s leagues ahead of me at any given time. I’m just your average young woman,” I sighed, propping my chin up in my hand as we traversed down the final street before arriving at Stefan’s estate.
“Mm,” the other woman hummed in vague acknowledgement of what I was saying, remaining silent for several beats after the fact. It seemed she wouldn’t say anything in regards to my foul attitude, though I suppose the tables had been turned in a sense. It was usually her position to be the more sour of the two of us. “Have you considered...,” she paused, pulling into the parking space in front of Stefan’s estate. She turned to face me, not bothering to unfasten her seatbelt. I hesitated, unsure of what exactly I should be doing. I knew Agnes would be waiting for me, but my new friend seemed to have something on her mind. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe your value is due in part to the fact that you were not born into some extravagantly exciting life? It’s easy to have a rich heritage, as you say I do. Even the inheritance... all I really had to do was be born. And somehow, I suspect that the silver fox we know and love has never had to experience an average moment in her life,” Isabella suggested, idly fidgeting with the knob on her radio dial, though we were both well aware that it didn’t function. It was easier than looking her in the eye as she spoke so earnestly, in any case. Isabella could be rude and crude, but when it came down to it, she seemed to have a level head on her shoulders... sometimes, at least.
“I think you’re just trying to make me feel better,” I muttered, smiling a bit as she narrowed her eyes in frustration.
“Or you’re too stubborn to acknowledge that you’re not the plain Jane you seem to think you are,” she exhaled, dropping her hand to the center console and glancing in my direction. “I’m not the nicest person in the world, here, kid. I wouldn’t lie to make you feel good about yourself. I don’t know an awful lot about the world outside this city, but... you’re special. I know that much for sure,” she grumbled, unfastening her seatbelt hurriedly. “Now come on, nerd. Aggie will get testy if I don’t bring you home in one piece,” she huffed, lurching out of the car. I laughed faintly, shaking my head in exasperation. God forbid the woman admit she have a kind bone in her body. If I hadn’t known her to be so soft in our previous interactions, I might think she was emotionally stunted. “Come on,” she whined, yanking open the passenger side door. I offered her a small smile, unfastening my seatbelt and gripping her hand to help pull myself to my feet. She made a face, brushing herself off as she strode towards the entrance of Stefan’s estate.
“You really don’t think Agnes will be upset? What universe do you live in?” I asked teasingly, and she rolled her eyes in response.
“You’re starting to make me feel as delusional as you seem to think I am,” Isabella sighed, pushing through the front door without bothering to knock.
“Rude,” I whispered under my breath, blanching when I lay eyes on Agnes. She was focused on her laptop screen, her expression tense as she clacked at the keys of her keyboard. I forced a smile, and Agnes drew her eyes away from her laptop to consider the two of
us lingering towards the doorway. Isabella gave me a light shove, and I stumbled a bit before catching myself and managing to make myself look moderately refined. The older woman steepled her fingers in front of herself, her eyes darting from me, to Isabella, back to me again.
“So, it was a dead end, then?” Agnes said carefully, her expression schooled into neutrality. The scrapes on my hands tingled, a bitter reminder of my desperation to find something indicative of her discovery.
“I’m afraid so,” I said softly, shuffling a bit to shove my hands into my pockets. Agnes hummed, her expression sour as she turned her attention to Isabella.
“I suppose you can leave, then,” she said dismissively, and Isabella parted her lips for a moment, as if to speak. Agnes narrowed her eyes at the other woman, and Isabella rolled her eyes, ignoring the tension in the air and meandering in the direction of the kitchen. “Where are you going?” Agnes demanded, twisting in her seat to watch the former tour guide.
“I’m getting a snack. I get hungry when I’m stressed,” Isabella called out casually, and Agnes narrowed her eyes for a moment before exhaling a sharp and exasperated sigh.
“She gets hungry a lot,” I offered nervously, and Agnes scoffed, turning to face me again.
“That much is apparent. If you expect me to go off on you, I’d honestly expect you to know better by now, Abigail. I’m disappointed, but it’s by no means your fault that my trail didn’t lead in the right direction,” Agnes sighed, though the disdain was obvious in her voice. She clearly wasn’t used to being wrong, likely about anything, and I could scarcely believe she actually thought she was wrong this time. “We will be heading back to the States soon, in any case. I suppose this trip was in vain,” she breathed, eye twitching as there was a crash in the kitchen. She leaped to her feet, rushing to see what Isabella had broken, and I watched her go with a faint sense of despair. I suppose it had been good while it lasted, though I had no doubts the older woman would fire me as soon as we returned to Seattle. I was sure I had made one mistake too many, and as forgiving as Agnes could be, I didn’t expect her to forsake her expectations altogether just to keep me on as an employee. It was only a matter of time before she let me go, at any rate.
However, a small but strong part of me wasn’t content to let it go so easily. While the experience had been a strange one at times, I could easily say that the trip was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me. I’d made a new friend, found brilliant new discoveries, and all of that was because I had happened across that strange little advertisement in the newspaper. Was I really going to give up so easily—after all that I and the older woman had been through in our time together? Of course not. Though I may have been remarkably average, I had been granted an opportunity to shine. I may have made my share of mistakes, but by God, this was the most fun I had ever had in my life. I wasn’t willing to give the position up so willingly, not by a longshot. No matter what it took, I was going to find what Agnes was looking for.
God save anyone who got in my way.
Chapter Seventeen
When I walked into the kitchen, Isabella was picking up small shards of glass with her bare hands while Agnes watched with a faint scowl. I cleared my throat, and Isabella looked at me with a chagrined smile.
“Your friend is clumsy,” Agnes pointed out, but Isabella didn’t respond beyond sticking her tongue out.
“We need to get moving,” I said in an attempt to be assertive, but the two other women simply looked at me as if I’d grown a second head. Isabella grimaced as a piece of glass cut her palm, but continued picking up the shards she’d dropped. Agnes considered me for but a mere moment before turning her attention to the grounded woman.
“Hurry up, would you? I hope you know you’ll be expected to replace that,” the eldest woman said in a bored tone, as if she’d not even heard my comment. I blinked, stepping forward and clearing my throat.
“Agnes, we can’t let this lead drop. There has to be more to it, don’t you think?” I pressed, and Agnes sighed before busying herself with helping Isabella.
“I don’t need your help,” the former tour guide grumbled, but Agnes only rolled her eyes and tossed the majority of the glass in the waste bin. Isabella exhaled a sharp sigh, standing upright to toss her own glass in the garbage. “Fine, busybody,” the dark haired woman muttered, grabbing an apple from a bowl on the counter.
“Do you ever stop eating?” Agnes hissed, and I felt myself growing annoyed by how easily they seemed to be ignoring me. Was I invisible? Did my opinion not matter? I stomped a foot, crossing my arms as the other women looked towards me. Isabella had a vaguely amused expression, but Agnes looked concerned—as if I had truly lost my mind.
“Aren’t the two of you even going to pretend to listen to me?” I demanded in a bark, almost immediately shriveling at my own tone. Isabella continued to smirk like the snide person she tended to be, but now the eldest woman looked amused as well. “I’m not prepared to give up on this whole trip. Agnes, I know you probably think I’ve failed you, and you may very well be right. But at any rate, I’m prepared to make up for it. We’ve come this far! We can’t just toss away everything we’ve found,” I began assertively, losing steam as her expression remained unchanged. Isabella idly munched on her apple, seeming grateful to have the older woman’s scrutinizing eye off of herself for once. Agnes hummed under her breath, leaning against a counter and propping her chin up in her hand. I tried to keep my expression steely, not wanting to reveal how utterly terrified I was at the idea of losing my job. She didn’t seem to buy my attempt at composure, circling around the counter to stop in front of me. My expression faltered, and I internally cursed myself for the sign of weakness.
“You silly girl. Do you truly think I’m going to strike you, or something equally ridiculous?” She demanded lightly, eyes dancing with amusement and... what strangely seemed to look like regret.
“Yeah, Little Bean. Do you think I’d let her get away with slapping your face off?” Isabella supplied, adding very little to the conversation. In spite of myself, I couldn’t help but chuckle at her assertive comment.
“What would you do, you chunky thing? Sit on me?” Agnes grumbled, and Isabella grinned before raising her shirt. She slapped her stomach—what gut she had, anyway, winking at the older woman. I was not terribly surprised to see her well formed abs, feeling a bit jealous that my body wasn’t in quite such peak condition.
“Oh come on, Aggie. You wound me, am I really unworthy of your prime insults? You’re going to poke fun at my weight, instead?” The former tour guide pouted, and Agnes made a face, pulling the other woman’s shirt down.
“Have some decency, would you?” Agnes hissed. I rolled my eyes at how easily distracted the two seemed to be, but the eldest woman turned to face me with a coy smile. “So sorry to interrupt, Abigail. It seems as if we’ve interrupted your tirade. Please, do continue,” she said with a faint chuckle. Isabella nodded, hopping up on the counter and letting her legs dangle off the side. I expected Agnes to chastise her, but the two seemed to be adjusting to each other’s presence at the very least.
“Right, right. Well... you just seem ready to give up on... whatever it is, we’ve been looking for. I know you probably don’t think I’m ready to know what it is, and maybe I’ll never know. I don’t have the highest hopes about keeping this job at this point...,” I trailed off, rubbing the back of my neck. “I just think we should put more effort in. Give it one last try, you know?” I said, my voice cracking with desperation. Agnes frowned a bit, her brow creasing as she seemed to consider my proposal.
“Alright. Say I give you another chance. Are you willing to give it your all? Use all the wits you have about you?” The older woman demanded.
“Yeah, Little Bean. Put that big beautiful brain to work,” Isabella grinned, tossing her apple core towards the waste bin. It circled around the rim before sinking inside, and she pumped her fist victoriously. “If that’s not a sign of things to co
me, I don’t know what is. Come on, kiddo. I know you’ve got it in you. Whatever it is,” the dark haired woman grinned, winking salaciously. I snorted, looking at Agnes with as serious an expression as I could muster.
“I promise to give it my all, this time. No more missteps. No more mess ups. I’m going to prove I deserve this job, if it kills me,” I asserted. The eldest woman smirked, glancing towards Isabella with a raised brow.
“Well, you heard her. Get off your rear, chunky,” she teased. Isabella nodded quietly, stretching her legs out in front of her before hopping off the counter. “You are to ensure she doesn’t actually die, after all,” Agnes added, shuffling back to her study. I trailed behind her, and I could sense Isabella lagging behind me. “If you want to get back on track, you should pick up some supplies for me. As kind as Stefan has been to host us, I think it best if we replenish our own foodstuff. Be sure to bring plenty of apples for Granny Smith, over there,” Agnes said, jotting some items down on a list.
“I’d consider myself more of a Golden Delicious. Not that you would know anything about that, my beloved silver fox,” Isabella said airily, and I looked between the two with an expression of exasperation.
“Can’t you two be serious for once?” I inquired balefully, and Agnes glanced at me with a faint smile.
“You’ll find I’m serious when it comes down to the wire, dear girl. As for your friend... well, at the very least, we’ve come to tolerate each other. Shouldn’t a new friendship be celebrated?” She grinned.
“I suppose. In any case, what other sort of supplies are we going to need?” I asked.
“Check that metaphysical shop that we lost Martin in. I’ve written down some essential supplies that you may very well find there,” Agnes ordered, and I glanced to Isabella with a confident smile.
The Peculiar Case of Agnes Astor Smith Page 11