The Peculiar Case of Agnes Astor Smith

by Constance Barker

  “Gods. The things I let myself be talked into,” Agnes grumbled, swiping her hand across the backseat. The crinkle of candy bar wrappers was loud and obnoxious, but Isabella looked entertained all the while. She peered at me from the corner of her eye, winking as she revved the engine.

  “Alright then. Two tickets to the Village of the Papyri after hours. Please no flash photography, as it will only agitate the spirits,” she announced in a sing-song voice, slamming the pedal to the metal and causing Agnes and I to lurch in our seats.

  “Sweet Lord,” Agnes said with a trembling voice, and as I looked into the back seat, I realized I had never seen her actually frightened before. She looked like a cat trapped on a hot tin roof.

  “Come on, Izzie. Take it easy on her,” I whispered, and the driver of the car glanced into the rearview mirror, sighing as she slowed down. Agnes relaxed a little, muttering under her breath as she stared out the car window.

  “You two really know how to ruin a good time, you know?” Isabella sighed balefully, pulling into the parking area of the tour site. She unfastened her seatbelt, sliding out of the car and grabbing a candybar from the inner pocket of her jacket. I shuffled out of the car, offering Agnes a helping hand as Isabella crunched on the chocolate.

  “You really know how to make one worry for their life,” Agnes bit back sourly, brushing herself clean of imaginary lint. Isabella hummed as she tossed the candy wrapper in the back seat and strode towards the ruins. Agnes and I trailed behind her for a moment before Agnes decided she was tired of behaving in such a submissive manner. The older women walked side by side in front of me, and I chuckled at how determined they seemed to impress each other. Agnes allowed Isabella to walk ahead as the three of us approached the guards, and Isabella grinned a toothy smile as a handsome and well-built young man rushed towards her. He tugged her into his arms, giving her a tight hug. Agnes and I exchanged a look, smirking at the scene. It was cute in a way, though Isabella would have been reluctant to let us see such an affectionate show in any other case.

  “Hey Brad. These are my friends, Little Bean and Aggie. They really wanted a more private look at things, and I figured you could pull some strings for your best gal,” Isabella said in saccharine sweet tones, brushing a hand through the man’s hair. He was gorgeous in every sense of the word, with platinum blonde hair and vibrant blue eyes. Agnes seemed to be wondering what he saw in someone like Isabella, and I might have felt the same if I hadn’t fallen so easily for the tour guide’s charms. There was something about Isabella that made you want to be near her, as a friend, or as this cute boy evidenced, as a lover.

  “Oh, Izzie. You know I’m not supposed to let anyone in, after hours. I could get in a lot of trouble, especially considering how eager the bosses were to let you go,” the man, Brad, said nervously. Isabella pouted, and for a moment I was worried our secret plans would be ruined.

  “You know my lips are sealed, sweetheart. They won’t even notice anyone’s been in the place. Aggie and Little Bean are very polite, and they know I’d kick them in the teeth if they put your job at risk,” the former tour guide purred, tracing her fingers along the man’s chest. He shivered a little, his lips turning down into a frown as he seemed to consider his options.

  “Alright. Go on in. Just be sure you don’t stay long. I mean it, Izzie. There’s only so many strings I can pull,” he muttered. She beamed, kissing him on the cheek before gesturing for us to follow her. I looked at the man, Brad, with a bit of sympathy as I passed him, but he seemed to be paying me very little mind. For her part, Agnes seemed a little too entertained by the stunt Isabella had pulled.

  “Lordy, aren’t you a little minx?” Agnes grinned, and Isabella snorted, swaying her hips from side to side as she walked before settling back into her usual slumped gait.

  “Well, I figured I would need to be able to compete with the silver fox,” Isabella smirked. Suddenly, she stopped midstep, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Wait... something isn’t right,” she muttered. Before we could ask her to clarify, a half dozen men stepped out of the shadows. Their knives glinted in the low light, and for a moment it was all I could do to remember to breathe. I could vaguely hear Agnes calling out to me, her voice frantic, but it felt as if she were miles away. I blinked slowly, looking up as one of the thieves lurched towards me. My breath caught in my throat as he raised his knife, but all at once I was shoved to the side and things seemed to resume at a normal pace. Blood spattered the ground where Isabella was sliced, just beside her eye. The wound was strangely crescent shaped, but I realized my dawdling was only costing us time. Isabella grappled with the man who had been trying to kill me, wrenching the knife out of his hand. Agnes was gesturing for me to follow her, and as much as I wanted to stay behind with Isabella, the danger was growing with every second that passed.

  “Abigail!” Agnes called out, and Isabella wheeled around to face me, her teeth bared in an animalistic snarl.

  “Go!” She roared, nearly getting thrown off of her feet as two of the thieves converged on her. I rushed towards Agnes, ignoring the desire to remain behind and help. I followed my instincts and those alone as Agnes guided me into the nearest hall, pulling me along behind her. I could hear the sounds of a struggle behind us, and my heart clenched painfully as I heard Isabella cry out in pain.

  “We should be helping her,” I hissed, hands tensing at my sides. Agnes ignored me, and I knew she had every right in the world to do so. I’d nearly gotten us all killed in my hesitation, freezing on the spot when I should have been helping fight off the thieves. A small part of myself wondered if this was what I should be doing... was I in the right place? Was a job in the face of such danger one that I was willing to risk my life for? Was the money worth risking the lives of my friends? There was hardly any time to think that over, however. Agnes and I needed to keep moving—as much as it pained me to leave Izzie behind. I could only hope the guards would hear her struggle before anything too serious happened.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Drawing me into an offshoot of the main hall, Agnes held a finger to her lips to indicate the need for silence. She drew me closer, and we watched as a group of men with knives and guns stormed through the hallway. Several of the men looked somewhat worse for wear, with deep cuts along their exposed skin. I realized all at once that they wouldn’t have hesitated to kill Izzie if she’d gotten in their way. My breath caught in my throat, and my eyes teared up a bit as Agnes tightened her grip on my arm. It couldn’t be... it shouldn’t have been, yet there he was. Martin himself, leading his men through the ruins. I wasn’t sure what to do. A very large part of me just wanted to tuck tail and run, but I knew I owed Agnes far more than a cowardly escape. A gasp pulled itself from my lips as I saw several of the men dragging an unconscious Isabella along, her entire body battered and bruised. Agnes’ expression hardened, but she simply gestured for me to silence myself once more. Once the final man cleared the hall, Agnes exhaled a long sigh and turned to face me.

  “We need to keep moving,” she ordered, her voice leaving no room for argument. I tightened my hands into fists, resisting the desire to scream. We were in too deep, and now the third of our trip was being subjected to God knows what. “They won’t kill her. Martin thinks he needs her,” she said, as if she’d read my thoughts.

  “You don’t even know where we’re supposed to be going,” I said quietly, receiving a rueful smile in response.

  “That’s why you’re taking the reins, dear girl. Martin seems to have some idea of where they’re going, but all I have is your hunch to go on. I know it is unfair for me to place such pressure on you, but... we have little choice,” Agnes said wearily. She seemed more affected by Isabella’s capture than I had expected, though she also seemed to know something about the other woman that I did not. As much as I wanted to resist, and as much as I didn’t want to be in charge, I knew that I could not risk faltering again. I inhaled a steadying breath before emerging from the hallway. Agnes remained at m
y side, a hand at her side. I realized that she was gripping a knife that she’d managed to get off of one of our attackers, and though I realized one knife was nothing compared to the dozens in their possession, it comforted me slightly.

  “We’re going to follow Martin and his men. First things first, we’re getting Isabella back. You say they won’t kill her, but we both saw how severely they beat her for resisting. We’ll have to be sneaky, but you have experience with that, I’m sure,” I said firmly, ignoring Agnes as her eyes widened and she seemed prepared to protest.

  “If they capture us, we won’t be nearly as merciful,” Agnes murmured, but she made no effort to stop me as I strode in the direction Martin and his men had gone. I expected her to let me carry on alone, but she remained at my side, her expression tense.

  “If one of us had been captured, do you think she would have left us behind?” I demanded, trying to keep the harshness out of my voice. “Whatever reason they have for keeping her alive, she knows nothing about it. If she thinks we left her behind, she may never forgive us. Worse, I’ll never be able to forgive myself,” I continued, hands fidgeting at my sides.

  “You’re too selfless, Miss Bean,” Agnes said quietly, almost as if she were reflecting on it. I hoped she was considering her own callous nature as well. I could understand her desire for self-preservation, but she needed to understand my perspective as well. After all, for whatever reason, she seemed to need me. We walked side by side in relative silence, and though I didn’t know the exact location the men were going, they had left a helpful trail of blood. The sight made me faintly queasy, and Agnes seemed to be having a similar reaction as she realized what trail I was following. “They wouldn’t kill her,” she repeated under her breath, though she seemed less sure of herself.

  “What’s so special about Isabella that they would choose to keep her alive?” I asked quietly, and Agnes laughed softly.

  “It’s only a working theory, as it stands,” she mumbled. I scowled, but resisted the desire to raise my voice.

  “So you’re not even sure yourself?” I demanded in hushed tones, and she narrowed her eyes in response.

  “I’m fairly positive. Her rich heritage speaks volumes about her,” Agnes said bitterly, crossing her arms. I rolled my eyes, but said nothing else, turning the corner and stopping short as I saw a man lingering just ahead. He continued to walk ahead, but at a more strained pace.

  “Not that I’m not flattered by the whole not killing me thing, but it would be swell if you would get your dirty hands off of me,” Isabella hissed, and the man grunted. He seemed to be carrying her bridal style, but she wasn’t making it easy on him by any means. I was simply relieved to see that my new friend had survived the attack, though blood still trickled from a wound I couldn’t quite make out.

  “Well I think it would be just swell if the boss would let us slit your throat, but apparently, you have something to do with his master plan,” the man said callously, and Isabella barked out a laugh. Agnes looked at me with an ‘I told you so’ expression, and I frowned as we edged closer to the two of them. He seemed to be lagging behind the rest of the group, and I had high hopes that we could isolate him long enough to free Isabella from his grip.

  “You have the wrong girl, buddy. You’re just sour that I handed your ass to you on a silver platter,” Isabella said disdainfully and I fought to swallow a laugh. He paused, and I wondered if my slight snicker had been audible. However, he only seemed to be struggling to keep his grip on the wiley woman, and I gestured for Agnes to have her knife at the ready. “Besides, don’t you have anything better to do than search for some old guy’s journal pages? You really need to get your priorities in order” Isabella continued snidely, and the man dropped her unceremoniously to the floor. She hissed in pain, and I saw that one of her legs had a long laceration along the side. That seemed to be where the blood was coming from. He gripped her by the hair, yanking her to her feet and all but dragging her alongside him.

  “You could have kept your mouth shut. The boss said to play nice, but he didn’t specify how nice,” the man grumbled, and Isabella awkwardly limped alongside him, pain evident in her grimace. My stomach lurched, and Agnes made a move to step ahead, looking fully prepared to slice the man’s adam’s apple. It was at that exact moment Isabella seemed to notice the two of us trailing behind her. Her eyes widened, and she simply mouthed the words ‘go, go, go’ over and over. I expected Agnes to follow her advice, but the two of us drew closer to her and the man who was dragging her along.

  “Look out, you idiots,” she shouted, and Agnes and I stopped short. I wasn’t sure how to feel about her revealing our position, but I suddenly felt myself gripped from behind. Isabella struggled all the more valiantly, and Agnes grimaced as she realized she was trapped between the man we’d been following and two who had been trailing behind us—all the while it seemed. She wielded her knife threateningly, but the other man simply rushed forward and gripped her wrist tightly in her hand. She cried out in pain, dropping the knife and trying to break free.

  “Let go of me, you bastard,” Agnes hissed, yelping as she was heaved over his shoulders.

  “We got ‘em boss! We got the old hag,” the man cried out, and Isabella snarled as she tried to wrench herself free.

  “Let them go! You don’t even need them! I’ll do whatever you creeps want, but that’s my hag! Let my friends go,” the former tour guide gritted out.

  “Oh dear, but it’s so much more enjoyable this way. Agnes. Accomplice to Agnes. I think we have something you want,” Martin said coolly, his expression twisted into a sick smile as he paused in front of us.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Ugh, I’m so sick of your villainous bull. Just cut to the chase,” Isabella hissed out, and though I thought the circumstances could be a bit better for her to say as much, I couldn’t help but agree. Martin frowned, glancing towards Isabella with a disdainful expression.

  “You’re such a mouthy little pest. Let the adults talk, now,” he said with a sigh, turning to approach Agnes. Isabella exchanged a look with me, looking much like a kicked puppy. It was obvious that she carried her share of remorse about us being caught, but as much as I wanted to reassure her, there simply wasn’t time. I turned my gaze to Martin, remaining silent as he scrutinized the woman I had come to respect—not just as a boss, but as a friend. “Agnes, my dear old friend...,” Martin began, reaching out to touch her cheek. She jerked back, but the man with a grip on her merely narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip. “Tell me everything you know, and your little trio will be freed. It’s as simple as that. I know you’ve always been a selfish woman, but surely you can find it in your heart to see that these young women aren’t killed in their prime,” he continued, his lips curled in a smile.

  “Eat dirt,” Isabella supplied helpfully, and Agnes looked at her with a pained expression.

  “Mark, silence the key,” Martin ordered harshly, turning his gaze upon the man who held Isabella in his grip. Though it was unclear what he meant, I could only assume that Isabella was the key he was referring to. I cringed as the man forced the former tour guide to her knees, taking his boot and grinding the heel into the wound on her leg. She gritted her teeth, refusing to make a sound in spite of the tears rolling down her cheeks. Blood poured from the wound anew, and it was obvious that Agnes was just as distressed as I was.

  “I don’t know any more than you do, Martin. All I’m sure of is that she’s not what you think she is,” the elder woman asserted, trying to break free of her captor’s grip.

  “Is that so? Well, as I’ve always said, there is usually more than one way to go about solving a problem,” Martin said dismissively. He glanced towards me, raising a brow slowly. “Then, tell me. What does this little one have to do with your plan? It’s obvious that she’s very important to you,” he paused, glancing towards Isabella with a smirk. “Both of you, I suppose. Little Flamel, do you have anything you would like to contribute to this conversation?�
�� He asked in saccharine sweet tones.

  “I hate to repeat myself, but I’ll make an exception. Eat dirt, you sick son of a—,” Isabella spat, trailing off into a cry of pain as the same tortuous treatment was applied to her injured leg. Her voice echoed into the halls all around us, and Martin rolled his eyes as if he were bored by the entire situation.

  “Keep her quiet, would you? We wouldn’t want law enforcement to be called in. Not when I’m so close to breaking the hag,” he scowled. Isabella struggled to get away from her captor’s grip as he placed his palm over her face, restricting air from both her nostrils and mouth. Panic shone in her gaze, and I braced myself for what seemed the inevitable climax. At least one of us in these halls would die, and I was determined to make sure it wasn’t either of my friends.

  “She’s not what you think she is!” I blurted. “Agnes has been training me, not her! Isabella has nothing to do with any of this! If there’s anyone you should be holding captive, it should be me!” I continued in a shout, trying to wrench myself free. The man gripping Isabella allowed his hand to fall away from her face, and she inhaled a shuddering breath as she nearly collapsed to the floor.

  “Is that so? Agnes, you fiesty old devil,” Martin grinned, stepping towards me with a grin. “Men, dispose of the mouthy little pest. It seems we won’t be needing her,” he announced grandly, stepping forward to grip my chin in his hand. His eyes met my own, and I was certain I had never seen such concentrated evil in my life. His words struck me belatedly, and I looked frantically at Agnes who looked almost... resigned.

  “I won’t help you! If you kill her, I won’t help you,” I hissed. Martin placed a hand to his chest, feigning surprise at my resistance.

  “Well, I’m afraid you can’t have it both ways, dear girl. If you refuse to help us, not only will your little friend die...,” Martin paused, gesturing for Isabella to be drawn to her feet. Her leg nearly gave out from under her, but she managed to brace herself against the man gripping her. In response, he wrapped a large hand around her throat. Her expression was bitter, but she looked unafraid even in the face of death. “Your employer will face the consequences as well. It’s your choice to make, ultimately,” he said, as if he were having the most casual conversation in the world. I looked between the two, my heart pounding in my chest. This was my fault. If I hadn’t gotten Isabella captured... if I had just been stronger...