“Oh, my. What a lovely gift. So thoughtful,” he said, sounding every bit as delighted as he was obviously pretending to be. He brought it up to his eyes, turning it in his hand with a hum and a chortle. “I can’t thank you enough, Isabella, having gone out of your way in such a manner. Just for me!” He continued with a smile, and Isabella was practically glowing at the praise. In was certain she hadn’t expected as much, but she didn’t seem bothered by it in any case. She glanced in my direction and, likely upon seeing my look of distress, rushed towards me. She rummaged through her bag once more, producing the very ‘baby bell’ she had been speaking so insistently about. I stared at it, mouth slightly agape.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t separate the family. Not really. I got the mommy bell for Agnes, and... well, the daddy can be a big sister in a pinch, I guess. A baby bell for a baby Bean,” she grinned, waving her own bell in excitement and taking immense pleasure in the sound of the ringing. Agnes shook hers as well, though she was noticeably more restrained in the action. She looked at me, a rather strange expression crossing her face.
“Dear girl, are you quite alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” the older woman gently murmured, gripping my chin in my hand and turning my face from side to side to look me over. I laughed breathlessly, awkwardly stepping away and looking at the small bell as if it was the most magnificent gift I’d ever been presented.
“I’m fine, Agnes, perfectly fine. I am just astonished that you two would, ah... go through so much trouble!” I squawked out, the words sounding terribly forced even to my own ears. If Isabella caught on to the lilt in my tone, she gave no indication, gesturing for us to follow along.
“Aggie and I went ahead and covered the check. Well, Aggie did. But I was very supportive of the action,” she grinned, grabbing one final object out of her bag. I wondered, vaguely, how it had fit, but as she withdrew a cowboy hat and replaced Robert’s bowler hat with it, Agnes laughed outright hysterically. I couldn’t help but smile a bit at the taken aback look Robert was expressing, holding his bowler in my hands.
“Alright, alright, you’ve all had your fun,” he sighed, moving to grab his cap from me. I tossed it over his head to Isabella, jogging ahead so that Izzie and I could continue the game of keep away. Even Agnes seemed thrilled to take part, and although Robert clearly wanted to begrudge us, he finally settled upon wearing the cowboy hat until we got bored.
“Howdy partner,” Agnes said slyly, and Isabella snickered at Robert’s bland expression.
“Howdy... y’all,” he said in a strange approximation to a southern accent. It was entertaining to say the least, though as we walked out to the car and I trailed behind the remainder of the group, I couldn’t help feeling as if I were more lost than ever before. The information that I was given by the older gentleman didn’t seem to fit, but I couldn’t exactly question it. It was all the information I had to go on for the time being, and truthfully, I couldn’t imagine Robert making up such a scandalous misrepresentation of the truth. Deep in my gut, I knew that if we didn’t act, and act soon, Agnes would inevitably perish. How long we had wasn’t clear, but with every passing day, Agnes seemed to grow more frantic and Robert could only console her so much. I didn’t want to imagine Isabella having to live without the mother figure so soon after being taken in. I didn’t want to think about losing Agnes at all.
“Little Bean, you in there? We’re heading to the site of the Lost Colony. Come on, girl,” Isabella piped up, nudging me towards the car when I didn’t budge. I forced a smile, settling in my seat as the others got inside as well. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know who to turn to. I was simply afraid. Deeply and completely afraid.
Chapter Six
Isabella and Agnes carried on their butchered southern accents for some time, due in part to neither Robert nor myself feeling any sort of desire to halt their fun. Agnes was, for once, entirely relaxed in the front seat, only expression any sort of disdain when Isabella began to engage her in a sword fight with their fans. Even then, it was clear that the distraction from her looming fatality was appreciated on the part of the elder woman. Isabella might not have known the extent of the danger that lie ahead of us, but she knew how to bring the laughs in a pinch. It wasn’t what most would consider a special talent, but anything that could put a smile on the brooding face of Agnes was beyond extraordinary. Robert and I occasionally exchanged looks from our side of the car, and while it was quite clear he didn’t want me to relay the information I’d been divulged, he seemed a bit concerned about my well being. It seemed, at the very least, he had accepted that he wasn’t the only one in our little troupe that cared about the oldest woman’s well being. It was a small step, but a step forward all the same.
“So, what is it about this Lost Colony that’s so important? For that matter, what makes it so lost?” Isabella paused, gesturing to the sign that directed tourists to the next stop. “Doesn’t look terribly lost to me,” she mumbled. Agnes laughed breathlessly, brushing the back of her hand across her forehead to wipe away a bit of perspiration.
“Well, I’m glad you asked. Park right here, Robert,” Agnes ordered, finally taking off her wide brimmed hat and placing it in the seat as she got out of the car. “The Lost Colony isn’t lost because of the location itself. It’s because of the English settlers that disappeared without a trace. Three years after their final shipment of supplies from England, John White returned, only to find that all the settlers had disappeared. There was no sign of them, and the only sign that anything may have been amiss was the word carved into the outer fence when White returned—the letters C-R-O-A-T-O-A-N,” The older woman explained, leaning against the side of the car. The Fort Raleigh National Historic Site had preserved the location effectively enough, though it mostly seemed to be a tourist attraction of sorts. I could only assume any studies conducted in the area had long since ceased, but it didn’t seem to dissuade Agnes at all.
“Croatoan, huh? Sounds like some kind of weird alien stuff. Maybe they were abducted,” Isabella idly suggested, trailing along behind Agnes. I snorted, and the older woman laughed airily as she waved her off.
“Oh, dear. Extraterrestrials have much more important things to do than abduct English settlers,” she insisted, and we all shared a laugh in spite of how strangely serious Agnes sounded. Isabella strode along, stopping short as a vast array of flowers came into view. I paused beside her, feeling strangely giddy at the sight of the beautiful display.
“What’s all that?” I inquired softly, gesturing towards the fields of flowers. Agnes hummed, rummaging in her purse for a moment before depositing a twenty dollar bill into my palm.
“That would be the Elizabethan Gardens. They’re intended to serve as a memorial for the first settlers. It’s also a period typical piece, that is, what a garden may have looked like during the Elizabethan era. You two should check it out while Robert and I explore the rest of the Site,” she smiled, looking between the two of us before glancing at Robert from the corner of her eye. His expression was troubled, and I vaguely wondered if Agnes had caught on to my new knowledge about her condition. She said nothing to indicate as much, simply drawing Isabella in for a brief hug before nudging her in the direction of the gardens.
“Why do I have the feeling you’re just trying to get rid of us?” Isabella asked with a slyly raised brow, and Agnes rolled her eyes as she brushed her off.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I want to get rid of you? I would have taken you back to the cabin if I wanted privacy,” she said dismissively. I thought to ask to tag along with Agnes and Robert and try to listen in on whatever private conversation they would undeniably engage in. However, Isabella grabbed me by the arm and pulled me towards the garden, her hat bouncing on her head.
“I wonder if there are any gardenias,” Isabella mused aloud, and I had to repress a shudder at the memory that brought to light. I had almost forgotten about the possibility of running into Martin during the trip, but the prospect
was now at the forefront of my mind again. Isabella seemed oblivious to my dismay, dragging me along to buy a pass into the gardens. Once the money had been exchanged and we’d received our passes, Isabella and I meandered into the gardens.
“You know, I think you might have been on to something,” I said with a sigh, and Isabella looked vaguely confused as we walked side by side along the path. “As far as the two of them trying to get rid of us,” I clarified, receiving a scoff for my efforts.
“Who knows. Let them carry on with their old people business, whatever it may be,” she said quietly, seemingly absorbed in the multitude of flowers surrounding us. “Oh, these are pretty. Will you take a picture of me with these as a backdrop?” Isabella asked abruptly, handing her phone to me. I swiped the screen, briefly tempted to snoop through her messages—especially as a new phone popped up from an unfamiliar female. Unfamiliar to me, at least. I decided it was none of my business, however, framing Isabella in the photo and snapping several until I was sure she’d be satisfied. As she walked back towards me, an expression of delight making her seem borderline angelic, I grinned in spite of my misgivings about the garden.
“Going to send those pics to your little friend? I’d expect you’d be wearing a lot less in those selfies,” I teased, giving her a nudge in the side. Isabella laughed, shoving me playfully in turn.
“Oh, please. I barely even know her name,” the dark haired woman said carelessly, though I watched as her eyes traced along the screen of her phone. “It’s a good thing you and Aggie talked me into getting a new phone, after the... incident, with the last one,” she mused, tucking it in her pocket and giving me her undivided attention. I shuffled a bit awkwardly, not really comfortable with that subject of conversation arising again. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to get all sullen. I just... I guess I never really thanked you guys for having my back,” she hummed, leaning in to sniff a particularly tall rose bush. I shrugged, then realizing she couldn’t see me, cleared my throat.
“Well, we all could have approached the situation a bit differently. Just the same, I’m glad we talked you into getting a new phone too. Even if it is just to send tawdry photos to flight attendants,” I smiled, jogging ahead as Isabella leered at me. She was adjusting to her disability with every passing day, and she could nearly run on pace with me now. Well, who was I kidding? She could probably outrun me if given the opportunity. Just the same, I wasn’t going to make it easy for her to catch up with me. I outright sprinted as I heard her beginning to give chase, laughing loudly and breathlessly as we darted down the winding paths of the gardens. It was fortunate that there didn’t seem to be many others at the historical site that day, or we’d have likely been scolded for our childish behavior. Even if Robert had been with us, we might not have had the opportunity to let loose. Regardless of whether or not Agnes was making an excuse to get rid of Isabella and myself for a little while, I was almost... grateful. Since Robert had told me how serious the situation truly was, I’d not had the opportunity to relax. For her part, Isabella had been worried sick about Agnes, in spite of her attempts to keep everyone in good spirits.
“Son of a—I didn’t come here to exercise, little Bean,” Isabella called out, sounding a mix of exasperated and amused.
“Too bad. We need to get you back in shape. All that chocolate is going to your gut,” I called over my shoulder, slowing in spite of my words. I panted for breath, resting my hands on my knees as I nearly doubled over to catch my breath. Isabella approached me slowly, seeming a bit tuckered out as well.
“My body is in impeccable shape, you sour grape,” she rasped out, brushing her hair away from her eyes. I chuckled, shrugging my shoulders innocently. “Well, at least I can take comfort in both of us being out of shape,” she sighed, grabbing me by my sleeve and pulling me along. “The replica of a Tudor Gate House should be next. I have no idea what a Tudor Gate House, is but, y’know. I’m all in, at this point,” she continued, releasing me once I began to match her pace.
“You know, for the mysterious history behind this place, they do keep it rather beautiful,” I mused, hands swinging at my sides as I walked. Isabella nodded her agreement, and as we came to the looming structure that I could only guess was the gate house, we slowed to a stop.
“It's beautiful...I am glad to be here with someone I consider family” I said as we stood staring at the house. We didn't notice the man standing behind us.
“Oh, what a sweet notion. I must agree one hundred percent, dear girl. After all, what do we have in this world but our loved ones? And those who love us in turn?” A saccharine voice cooed, and chills went down my spine as I realized I recognized that voice. Isabella’s teeth were bared in what could only be called a snarl as she placed herself between me and the man who had intruded on our moment, as it were. I knew it was inevitable, but just the same, I wished I could have put our meeting off a little longer.
“Hello, Martin.”
Chapter Seven
“Oh, please, Abigail. I would think we’re past such formalities. Why not call me Marty, or—” the man began, cutting himself short as Isabella made to lurch towards him. I just managed to stop her, gripping her by the back of her shirt and holding her as close to me as I could manage. I could understand that she wanted nothing more than to kill the man after all he had put her through, hell, I wanted much the same. Just as well, it wouldn’t do to make a scene in public, and it would be even worse to alert Agnes to the situation. I didn’t know what role, exactly, Martin played in finding the formula. I only knew that he wanted to come between our group and our end goal.
“What the hell are you doing here, you scumbag?” Isabella demanded, hands flexing at her sides. Martin touched his hand to his chest, as if taken aback by her intense dislike. It was as if he had completely forgotten everything he put us through, though I very well knew that was not the case.
“Oh, dear. I’ve come to speak to you! The key, the final missing piece of the puzzle. A special one you are, dear girl. Special indeed,” he crooned, moving to step towards us. Isabella stood her ground, her expression bitter.
“Yeah, you keep pressing that issue, but you don’t even know my name. If I were special, don’t you think it would be prudent to know who I actually am?” My friend demanded scornfully, although Martin didn’t seem terribly troubled by her irritation. He waved her off, looking between the two of us much like a cat that was making the choice between a tasty canary and a delicious little mouse.
“Your name isn’t the important thing, dear. Do you think Agnes has kept the same name all along? Of course not, but she’s always been a crucial component to this coming to fruition. Just like you, the key. Granted, she’s not nearly as important as you. No, not by a longshot,” Martin hummed, drifting closer and closer to us. Isabella refused to take a step back, but I finally forced her to, keeping her at my side.
“Why do you keep calling her that? The key? The key to what? And what are you implying about Agnes...,” I trailed off, sensing that Isabella was growing more and more irate by the second.
“Oh, goody. She’s not told you. It’s just like the old biddy to keep such delightful secrets to herself, especially since.... Well, since she met me,” the eccentric man grinned, opening his arms and splaying his hands out as if he wanted to draw us into an embrace. “We’re all of a like mind, the three of us. At least, we would be, if you would just make an effort to see things my way. Why do you make it so difficult, my beautiful, special girls,” he cooed, stepping forward. Isabella growled like some kind of rabid beast, hands curled into a ripping motion as she moved to close the distance.
“Don’t you dare speak to either of us like that,” I hissed, sensing how uneasy my dear friend was in spite of the facade she presented. Martin looked taken aback, once more gasping as if I’d caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.
“Oh, you mean to tell me you don’t like it? But isn’t that how family communicates? We value each other. We’re precious to one anot
her—,” Martin paused, his smile twisting into a mockery of the sincerity he had tried to articulate. “Oh, you know what. Forget it. I thought I could talk sense into you, but you’re so far up the old biddy’s tail end that I know you won’t see reason. And, after all, Abigail: I have no real use for you. You’re not the one I want,” he chuckled, stepping forward and grasping Isabella by the wrist. He pulled her into a spin, drawing her towards his chest and wrapping an arm around her throat. She went still, her expression that of a rabid animal backed into a corner. I felt my own lips curling into a snarl, but Martin loosened his grip on her—just marginally. “Don’t you think it’s time you stopped gallivanting around with a crew of wannabe detectives? Let’s be reasonable now, Isabella Dunn. You think I know nothing about you, but I know everything there is to know. I know that you are a sweet, kind, generous soul...,” he paused, gripping her by the chin and forcing her to look him in the eye. She began to struggle in his grip, but he shushed her, glaring daggers at me as I tried to step forward. “Let me speak to her or I’ll break both of your necks,” he hissed. Isabella shifted in his grip, staring him defiantly in the eye.
“It’s okay, Abigail. Don’t worry. He’s bluffing, he needs me,” she hissed out, grinning wickedly at the look of stunned fury in Martin’s gaze. I was a bit taken aback by the use of my full name, and realized just how serious the situation was from Isabella’s use of it.
The Peculiar Case of the Lost Colony Page 4