by Blythe Baker
And as it stood, Edward was the only person I knew who could connect me to the Chess Master, and the Chess Master was the only person I knew who could connect me to Jimmy. Essentially, Edward was my only hope.
I knew, however, that I couldn’t tell any of this to Edward. He was in a precarious legal situation, no doubt facing terrible punishment should he be convicted of murder, and my testimony would almost certainly convict him. If he knew how desperately I needed this information, he would definitely try to use it as a bargaining chip, and then the only way I’d get anything out of him would be to choose not to testify or to lie on the witness stand.
I said, “The man has sought me out on several occasions but has kept his identity a secret from me. I would like to know to whom I have been talking.”
“He contacted you?” Edward asked, dubious. “Why would he do that?”
“It is not important,” I said firmly. “Can you help me uncover his identity or not?”
Edward lifted his chin, looking down his nose at me. “Of course, I can. The question is whether I will or not.”
I sighed and stood to leave. “This is ridiculous. I am not here to play games with you, Edward.”
“You aren’t going anywhere,” Edward said with a laugh.
He was right. He’d called my bluff. I had no intention of leaving the cold, damp room until I had an answer one way or the other from him.
“You may be surprised to hear this, Rose, but the men in here are not excellent company. So, you’ll have to excuse me if I drag this meeting out awhile longer.”
“Why do you want to talk to me?” I asked. “You tried to kill me, remember?”
Edward shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “I did no such thing. Though, if I had, it surely would have been out of necessity and not because of any ill will towards you.”
A shiver ran down my spine. Why hadn’t I ever noticed Edward’s cool manners? The way he spoke around the truth, dangled the true meaning of his words in front of you like a treat and then yanked them back? He was diabolical. Though, I reminded myself, he was also in prison. He’d been fooled once—by me, in fact—and he could be fooled again. As always, he believed himself to be the cleverest person in the room, but one of us could leave the cage, the other couldn’t. Clearly, I had the upper hand.
“Actually, I will leave. I don’t want the information badly enough to endure this horrid place,” I said, pushing my chair back and smoothing out the chiffon fabric of my dress. “I’ll be sure to send my regards with your family, whenever they are able to make it out for another visit. If not, I’m sure I’ll see you in the courtroom.”
Edward’s face was expressionless and stony as I left the table, but by the time I was halfway to the door, he cracked.
“Wait,” he said, swiveling in his chair, the chains around his wrists clanking on the table. “I will give you answers.”
I stopped, one foot lifted mid-step, and looked over my shoulder. “I told you. I don’t want answers badly enough to spend any more time here. You want to toy with me, Edward, and I’m not interested.”
“The roof leaks in my cell,” Edward said, his voice quiet, wavering around the words. “It’s cold and damp. Men die in here because of the conditions. I’ve felt ill for weeks. Even if they don’t execute me, I’ll die in this place.”
I turned to face him, my arms hanging loosely at my sides. I had never seen Edward look so vulnerable. Still, I didn’t want to give him even the tiniest hint that I felt for him.
He lowered his face, staring down at his feet, and continued. “I wanted to protect my sister’s honor—my family’s honor—but instead I have besmirched it irreparably. The only thing I ask is that you all do not forget me.”
His words echoed off the hard walls until everything aside from our breathing went quiet. Then, a metallic bang rang out, and I instinctively ducked.
“Visit over,” the guard outside the door barked, not even bothering to form a full sentence.
Edward looked up at me, eyes wide, stricken. “Come back,” he demanded. “Come see me again, and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
The guard banged on the metal door again, and I moved towards him, my ears ringing.
“Please, Rose,” Edward called, outright begging now. “Come see me again. I’ll help you with whatever you need. Please.”
The guard opened the door for me and I stepped into the hall. Just before the door closed, I gave Edward one small nod. His face broke into a hopeful smile, and then the door slammed closed, and he was gone.
END OF EXCERPT
About the Author
Blythe Baker is a thirty-something bottle redhead from the South Central part of the country. When she’s not slinging words and creating new worlds and characters, she’s acting as chauffeur to her children and head groomer to her household of beloved pets.
Blythe enjoys long walks with her dog on sweaty days, grubbing in her flower garden, cooking, and ruthlessly de-cluttering her overcrowded home. She also likes binge-watching mystery shows on TV and burying herself in books about murder.
To learn more about Blythe, visit her website and sign up for her newsletter at www.blythebaker.com