Mind Your Manors

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Mind Your Manors Page 12

by CeeCee James


  Ms. Valentine—spurning my offered pen and using her old-fashioned metal nub ink pen, carefully signed her name.

  It was as Charity was signing that I noticed a flourish she used on the C. Very similar to the one carved into the pole outside.

  I glanced up at Ms. Valentine, and she narrowed her eyes.

  I gulped and looked back down. Don’t say anything. Just get these things signed.

  They finished signing and I gathered the papers up. No one spoke. Honestly, I left the house with a flood of relief. Shake the dust off your feet, I thought as I walked down the steps.

  As I walked to my car, I noticed a pick-up truck out at the end of the driveway. The back had a weed-eater poking out. Maybe they were a local yard worker looking for new clients.

  As I reached my car, my gaze landed on the shed in the back, and I remembered when I’d seen someone there. And, just like last time, I saw movement at the small building. Pausing, I held my breath, hoping it would be Richard poking around. The figure began to walk from the behind the building but saw me and bounced back. My heart sped up.

  He wasn’t tall enough to be Richard.

  I looked around but there was no one around to help. It was up to me.

  “Hello? Can I help you?” I asked, slowly walking toward the shed and hoping I wasn’t being the dumb girl in the horror movies that you scream at for going toward the danger.

  There was a crash in the building.

  “Hey! I’m calling the police!” I pulled out my phone when the man came running around the side and toward me.

  “Wait, wait!” He held his hands up in front of himself, showing me they were empty. “Please don’t do that! I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Hurt me? I pressed the 9 and the 1. “Who are you?” I held my phone in front of me, my finger waiting to push the last 1.

  As he got closer, I saw he was quite old. He walked with a limp.

  “Please, I just...” He rubbed his hands through his gray hair, sighing. “Look, I know this family and this house.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. “You need to go up to the front door then and knock. Why are you wandering around back there?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Who are you?” I repeated.

  He ignored me reached into his back pocket, causing me to hold up the phone, finger poised. “Watch it!” I yelled.

  He held out a hand. In the other one was a newspaper. “They found a skeleton here. Do they know who it is?”

  I stood, shocked and unsure of what to do next. Where the heck was Richard? He was always skulking about. Ms. Valentine? Charity?

  The man stared at me with dark eyes. He was watching me, trying to read what I was thinking.

  That expression reminded me of someone.

  I swallowed and asked, “How do you know the Valentines?”

  “Mr. Valentine was a caring man. I messed up, okay? He took me in like one of his own but...no, I’m not a Valentine. But my son was.”

  “Your son?” I could barely hear him through the rushing of blood in my ears.

  “Yes. Charity’s and my son.”

  My mouth dropped. His eyes watched me, his empty hand still loose and non-threatening, but something had my body in the fight or flight mode.

  I picked up my jaw enough to ask, “Kyle Murphy?”

  He didn’t answer, but he didn’t deny it. “I just want to see Charity. I have some questions. Is there any way you can get me in?”

  My determination rose quickly. “No, there’s no way I can just let you in. I mean, let me get…Gladys.”

  “No!” Anger colored his face red. “No! I don’t want her or Richard knowing I’m here. They’ve always hated me. All these years. There’s no way they’d let me see her.”

  “Why not?” I shot a look toward the windows, wondering if anyone had seen us yet. Maybe they would call the cops or come out and save me all the trouble and panic.

  “It’s a long story, I just want to see Charity and talk to her for just a minute, okay? I want to ask her about this.”

  He still held the newspaper in his hand.

  “What questions do you have for her? Who do you think the skeleton is?” I asked. I was scared to hear the answer.

  Chapter 22

  “Who was it?” I asked again, my voice ratcheting up with anxiety.

  “I think it was Brian. My son. Charity’s and my son.”

  “How?” I asked, reeling at hearing what I’d suspected to be true coming from his mouth.

  “He’d been shot in the leg. It was serious, but not deadly. I don’t know why he didn’t make it.” Kyle stared at me beseechingly, almost begging for understanding. “I’m not a monster. I’m not a good man, either, but I didn’t leave him alone to die. I should have protected him.”

  “How did he get shot?” I felt sick to my stomach. I knew, but I wanted to hear him say it.

  “He was just like his old man, always in trouble. Only he never outgrew it.” Kyle glanced at the newspaper article and his face crumpled as his eyes filled with tears. “Honestly, I wasn’t the best man, but I tried. I really tried with him. After Mrs. Valentine died, Gladys forced Brian into my arms and told me I had to take him. That Charity was fragile and couldn’t handle the stigma of having a baby out of wedlock. No one knew it was hers. No one does to this day.”

  He lifted his head. His eyes were red-rimmed. “I moved him clear to Ohio to try to give the boy a new beginning. I gave it my best shot. But, it was drugs that got that boy, and once they grabbed hold, they never let go. Then, he found out that I’d been writing a woman here.”

  “Do you mean Mrs. Crawford?”

  He started with surprise and then gave a hollow laugh. “You know about her, too? Yeah, it wasn’t too hard for Brian to get the whole story out of me. Well, he thought he could come back to the Valentine Manor and force them to accept him. It didn’t work out so well. I don’t even know if he got to say who he was before Gladys had Richard toss him out on his ear. Brian called me. I could hear the shaking in his voice, and thought it was from drugs.”

  A tear ran down Kyle’s cheek. “He said he’d gotten into trouble. That he’d been shot in the leg. I’m still not sure what happened. He said I needed to come and he’d be waiting for me down in the woods behind the town’s park. I told Brian to call an ambulance, but he said he needed me.”

  He sighed. “I jumped in the car immediately, but it was still a five hour drive. On my way, I called Gladys to see if she’d help him. I told her where Brian was, begged her to help him. ‘He’s your blood!’ I reminded her. She hung up on me. When I went to the spot that Brian said he’d be at, he wasn’t there. I spent the next two weeks searching for him.”

  “Did you come here, too?” I asked, gesturing toward the house.

  “Yeah, it was the first place I came. I was hoping that Gladys had relented. That somewhere in her cold heart, she’d felt a drop of mercy and had come to that boy’s aid. Her nephew. But she denied it. Said she’d never seen him, and then Richard came out with his gun and told me to leave.”

  My heart ached to see his pain. “You think Brian made it here after all.”

  Kyle didn’t say anything. Just crumpled the paper and nodded.

  I vaguely heard the rev of an engine, but it didn’t register. I was drowning in my own thoughts. A sudden weight slam into my waist as Kyle knocked me to the ground.

  I beat at Kyle with my hands until I realized the old Valentine car idled where we’d both been standing.

  The car door sprang open and Richard got out. I saw a shotgun in his hands. He pulled back the lever, his face dark with anger. I screamed as he leveled it at me, and then realized he was pointing it at Kyle. I glanced down and pushed the last 1 on the cell phone, hoping the police would respond faster than Richard could decide to shoot Kyle.

  “Noooooo!” A blood-curdling shriek came from behind us.

  I was too afraid to look away from the gun to see who it was. I didn’t nor
mally play hero, but I hoped by staring Richard in the eye, he’d be less likely to shoot.

  Charity leaped into the tangled pile of us on the ground. She wrapped her arms around Kyle. I was astounded at the strength and speed of the short woman.

  “Richard, no!” she cried, holding tightly to Kyle.

  We all stared like three owls at Richard.

  Richard’s jaw jumped as he chewed his cheek. Slowly, he lowered his gun. But he wasn’t done yet. “Get away from him!” he bellowed at Charity.

  I shimmied backward to get clear of them. I glanced down at my phone. It was connected to the police. I could hear the faint voice repeatedly asking if I was there.

  I lifted it to my ear and whispered, hoping I wouldn’t distract Richard. “Yes, I’m at the Valentine mansion! Please send help.”

  “Where?”

  I rattled off the address I knew by heart now.

  “What’s the nature of the emergency?”

  “There’s a man with a gun and I don’t know if he is going to shoot someone or not.”

  “Where is the gunman? Has he shot anyone?”

  “No, he’s just really mad and he was pointing it at another man but his sister stopped him.”

  “How did she stop him?”

  “She’s blocking his shot. Please hurry!”

  Charity started talking animatedly to Kyle. Frowning, Richard slowly raised his shotgun again.

  “Stop, Richard! The police are on their way!” I walked over with my hands in the air until I was standing in front of the two that stayed on the ground. What was I doing?

  I was trying to save someone’s life, that’s what I was doing.

  “What’s going on here?” An abrupt question jerked my head to the side. Gladys strode forward, her cane stabbing into the ground and pulling out divots. Her eyes passed over me and locked onto Richard.

  “What are you doing?” she asked her brother, before drawing her gaze down to Charity and Kyle.

  “Charity, what is the meaning of….” she trailed off when she saw who Charity was protecting. Her lips pressed into a grim line.

  I stood, my arms still out, like a cat about to spring away.

  “Richard, put the gun away now. The police are on their way, unless Ms. O’Neil would care to stop that.” She glared at me.

  The answer was a hard no from me. How did I know what was going to happen next?

  “Ms. Valentine, they already know about a gun...”

  “Lovely. Well, everyone needs to get out of the yard and come inside, at least. The neighbors surely have gossip for years to come already and once the police arrive, we’ll have a crowd.” She reached down and grabbed Kyle’s shoulder. “Inside, now. Everyone.”

  Kyle nodded, patting Charity on the head and whispering to her. She lifted her head to smile at him and allowed him to help her stand. I glanced at my car, ready to race away. Two things stopped me, I knew the cops would want to know where I was. I did call them, after all. And I wasn’t so sure about Kyle’s safety if I did leave.

  Everyone had moved into the parlor. Kyle sat in one chair, and Charity in another. Richard stood by the fireplace and Ms. Valentine sat on the love seat.

  I stood at the doorway, even though Richard had taken the shotgun away. I assumed to his room.

  “Why were you going to shoot him?” Charity glared at Richard. “How could you?”

  “To protect you, as we have always done,” Richard answered. “Why are you here, Kyle?”

  Kyle pulled out the newspaper he had shown me and laid it on the table. Ms. Valentine’s jaw tightened as Charity looked back and forth in confusion between them.

  “What is it?” Charity whispered to Kyle.

  “It’s an article about the skeleton that was found here,” Kyle answered, his jaw tightening.

  Charity turned to me, her eyes wide. “It was real?”

  “Yes, it was.” I nodded.

  Ms. Valentine knocked her knuckles against the side table. “We need to have a discussion, but I think it best that Charity isn’t here. Sister, why don’t you take a long bath and get cleaned up for dinner tonight? You can put on one of your new dresses.”

  Charity pouted, but got up and left the room. I watched her leave and noted again how Charity was treated like a child.

  “She has a right to know…” Kyle started.

  “Not yet.” Ms. Valentine cut him off. “You weren’t here. You don’t know how she took things.”

  “Things she wouldn’t have had to deal with if you all hadn’t sent Brian and I away.”

  “How dare you come back to this house! You betrayed papa! He should have never taken you in,” Ms. Valentine hissed. Her hand trembled. She reached for her cane as if needing something to hold. Her eyes flamed as she stared him down.

  Kyle ducked his head, shamefaced.

  I wanted to speak up, ask so many questions that burned inside me, but I was afraid to remind them I was still there.

  Ms. Valentine turned to me. “Charity has the mind of a child, and with Kyle, she’s always been like a love-stricken teenager. He got her pregnant and dumped her.” Ms. Valentine dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “This is why we tried to protect her. When he panicked and ran, she tried to kill herself. I have given up my life to take care of her.”

  “Why would she do that?” Kyle asked, looking horrified. “And what could I do? I was in Korea?”

  “Because my sister couldn’t deal with the pregnancy. She didn’t understand that you weren’t coming back to marry her!”

  “I was married to Marla,” Kyle said humbling. “It was a horrible one-night stand, one I barely remember, to be honest. The alcohol…”

  “Please. As soon as Marla found out, she divorced you. You were never going to marry Charity. You know it’s true. Charity couldn’t take care of the baby when he arrived. She didn’t want him. Momma tried, and then she died.” Ms. Valentine gasped in grief. My eyes darted to the direction Charity had left in, hoping she didn’t hear this.

  “And when Momma died, it was better for everyone to have you take the baby. We were nearly ruined because of what you and Charity had done. It was better for any part of your poisonous presence to leave our house once and for all, and to never return!” Her palm slapped the table. “Yet, here you are.”

  “I know I wasn’t a good man.” Kyle shook his head. “But I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. Charity and I were never more than friends. It was the night before Richard and I were shipped off. You remember that big going-away party? Well, I got too drunk. Marla and I were fighting. Charity always had a little crush on me. Remember how she carved that heart with our initials on it? Well, that night I made a drunken mistake. One that I paid for with having Marla divorce me while I was overseas. I came back and tried to raise the child as best as I could. Alone.”

  We sat in a stalemate of bitterness and grief.

  “Well, I took care of the problem,” Richard said, startling me. He’d been so quiet I’d forgotten he was there.

  No one moved. The unsaid meaning of his words roared through the room like ocean sounds hidden in a seashell.

  Finally, Ms. Valentine spoke. Her voice cracked. “What do you mean, Richard?”

  “I overheard that phone call. The one Kyle made to you all those years ago. I went and picked the boy up. The brat.”

  “Why would you bring him here?” Ms. Valentine asked. Her eyes widened and she clutched at her throat.

  “He had some jewelry that looked worth a lot of money. He said he’d give me more if I’d help him.” He wiped down the front of his face with his huge palm. “I figured I could squeeze him a bit and he’d help pay back all he took.”

  “But instead—” Ms. Valentine prompted.

  “Instead he started acting like a loon. Said he needed his fix and was making a huge ruckus.” Richard shrugged. “I smothered him with the pillow. End of story.”

  I grabbed the door frame, reeling with horror. Kyle cried out, and even Ms. Val
entine looked green.

  “He was a product of sin. You live a life of filth, you die by the sword.” Richard glared at us, daring us to argue.

  It was then I remembered the Bible scripture that had been highlighted by the picture of the baby. It had been Richard who’d done that.

  Kyle began to cry, clutching his forehead as he leaned over. “It should have been me!”

  “Yes, it should have.” Ms. Valentine responded, her voice cold. She had regained her composure.

  There was a knock on the door.

  I’d forgotten that the police were on their way.

  Ms. Valentine rose to answer it. She grabbed my shoulder on her way out. “Nothing good can come from the police’s involvement. What’s done is done. We’re going to agree that Richard thought there was an intruder, but it turned out to be a family friend who hadn’t gotten a response at the front door and was trying the back. Richard was just a startled old man trying to protect his sisters.”

  I watched her go, my mind spinning. I felt bad about the two sisters being left alone. But my mind was made up. Richard had to be held responsible for his actions, something I didn’t think the Valentines had much experience with.

  Ms. Valentine met the cops at the door. One of the cops was Officer Carlson. He was the same one who had come to my house, accusing me of being a bit “Hollywood” with my drama. He walked in and narrowed his eyes when he saw me. It was enough to tell me he was thinking he had been spot on with his assessment.

  “Ms. O’Neil,” he said, with a nod. “We meet again."

  Chapter 23

  It was a rough next two hours. Charity cried with confusion. Ms. Valentine threatened everyone, thumping her cane and yelling, “This is outrageous!” One of the officers forced her to sit and cautioned her that the cane was about to be taken away.

  Speaking of taking away, that’s exactly what they did to Richard. They turned him around to cuff him when his gaze landed on me. “I should have ran you off the road that night! I knew you were a no-good snoop!”

  “Quiet,” warned the officer who was cuffing him.

 

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