Creighton Manor

by Karen Michelle Nutt

  Josephine had already expected the worst, so it didn't take much for her overactive imagination to run wild. She also didn’t miss Zachary's threat behind his statement. She jumped to her feet. “How dare you.”

  “I believe you have overstayed your visit,”

  She glared at him, but he wouldn’t back down. She inhaled deeply. “Then I shall bid you good day, Mr. Creighton.”

  “And to you.” He bowed and swept his hand by him to dismiss her.

  She marched past him and out of the house. “Oh this is not over, Mr. Creighton,” she mumbled under her breath. He couldn’t threaten her and expect her to keep quiet.

  Dora arrived with the tea to find Zachary alone and grinning like a fool. "Where did Madame Locke run off to?”

  "Said something about making a quilt." He left Dora standing there, mystified over what had just transpired. He knew he should have made up a story why Gillian had left him, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. Saying the words would make it all too real that he would never see her again. Besides, seeing the nosey Josephine Locke all flustered and tongue-tied made his day.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  "I swear to you, as I am sitting here." Josephine began the story while each woman worked on a section of the quilt. "Zachary Creighton threatened me. He pretty much said, if I didn’t mind my own business, he’d do me in."

  "Oh, come on, Josephine. Surely, you don't believe Mr. Creighton murdered his own wife."

  "Well, if he didn’t, why the mystery of where she is? You tell me that Carol Ann.”

  She didn’t have an answer.

  "We do know what Zachary did to Violet Ellsworth. I heard, she's gone quite mad,” Nancy, who was sitting next to Carol Ann, added.

  "I heard that story, too,” Yolanda said. “You mean to tell me it’s true.”

  “Quite true.” Nancy nodded.

  This added to the suspicions already formulating against Zachary, the old spinster woman of the group decided to speak up. She had a fancy for Zachary's father when she was young and vital, but he had out right rejected her. Everyone knew she hated all the Creightons for that slight. "Some of you are too young to remember, but Zachary's father wasn't any good, either. Bad blood, those Creightons. They're capable of doing anything.”

  The five women at the quilting party continued with their gossiping. Their mind's racing about what Zachary might have done to his wife.

  ***

  "Zachary, you have to take this seriously. It could get out of hand." Ellery took the glass of scotch that his friend had handed him.

  "I have more important things to worry about than gossiping women." Zachary chuckled. "I didn't realize I had scared Madame Locke that severely. I still can't believe she started a rumor about me murdering Gillian."

  "It won't be a laughing matter if the sheriff takes a mind to listen. What are you going to tell him?"

  "The truth."

  "You’re mad!" Ellery lifted his brows and shook his head.

  "I don't mean that I'll tell him that she traveled through time. I'll tell him she went home. I wouldn't be lying." Zachary threw back his head and finished his drink. He put down his glass. "Don't worry about it. As soon as the women have something else to gossip about, they'll forget all about me.”

  Ellery brows furrowed and the expression on his face shadowed his doubt.

  “Listen Ellery, if I’m not worried about this, you shouldn’t be either.”

  Ellery shook his head. “Fine, I’ll let the matter drop. So what is this I hear about you taking up with the books again?"

  "You've been talking to Lotti, no doubt.” Zachary grinned, knowing full well that his grandmother had been bragging. "I had a passion for medicine before I became obsessed with gambling. I have decided to go down that path, again.”

  "I'm happy for you.”

  Zachary decided to ask about Ellery's gallivanting life. "So, when do you plan on putting yourself in the real world? Hasn't your money run out yet?”

  "Never. I didn’t much care for the life as a lawyer. I'll be able to live my life out as a perfect gentleman, between my inheritance from Aunt Florentine from jolly ole England, and the money I won on the big race between the Natchez and the Robert E. Lee." Ellery grinned, obviously thinking this was the most marvelous accomplishment in the world.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Zachary packed up the wagon for the trip over to Creighton Manor. He still needed to repair a few things and promised Tyler that he could go with him. Dora was good enough to pack them a lunch, knowing they wouldn’t be home until late. She handed the basket to Tyler and he immediately raced over to him.

  "Are you ready?” Zachary asked and Tyler nodded.

  They were on their way.

  Dora went back into the house and started her chores for the day. First, she wanted to do some well-needed laundry. She went out back to fetch the washbasin.

  ***

  The sun rose in the sky, a brilliant bright orb of light welcoming Violet Ellsworth into town. She was filthy to say the least. Every inch of her was caked in dirt and sweat. Her once lustrous red hair was matted to her head and her clothing was in desperate need of repair, but she had made it. She’d found her way back to Zachary Creighton.

  Violet watched Zachary leave the house. She was grateful she would have time to bathe before she dined with him. She let herself in and headed for the stairs. She entered the first room she came to and went over to the armoire. She needed to find a beautiful dress to wear. She caressed the lovely gowns, finally deciding on the blue one. She quickly changed out of her plain gray attire and into the clean silky garment. She picked up her discarded dress as she glanced around the room. Her eyes rested on the beautiful flowered brooch that was on the nightstand. She ran over to it, stopping short as she let her hand hover over the dear treasure. She slowly lifted it as the tears sprung to her eyes. "He bought me a gift." She opened the clasp and pinned it to her dress. "I must go to him.”

  She left what was once Gillian's room and crossed the hall. She didn’t even hesitate when she opened the door to Zachary’s room. Her eyes rested on the spacious bed that she would share with him once they were properly married. She walked over to it and rubbed her hand lovingly over the soft comforter. She was in his room. Finally, she was where she belonged. She let go of her old filthy dress she had been clutching and pulled back the covers on the bed. She slid beneath the sheets with a deep sigh. “Ah, ‘tis heaven.” She rolled over onto her stomach and put her hands under the pillow. She felt something cold and smooth at the tip of her fingers. She grasped the item and sat up to examine her prize. It was Zachary's knife. She ran her fingers lightly over the sharp blade.

  ***

  Dora came back into the house and went upstairs to Tyler’s room to see if he left any clothes on the floor. She was about to pass by Zachary's door but something halted her. She was sure the door had been closed when she had gone downstairs this morning. Now, it stood partly ajar. She cautiously entered the room to investigate. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the bedraggled woman sitting on Zachary's bed as though she was royalty. "See here. What do you think you’re doing?"

  Her voice startled the woman. She bolted off the bed and hid her hands behind her. Her eyes were glazed with unspoken insanity, but Dora didn’t recognize the danger and took a step toward her.

  “I know you, don’t I?” Dora told her. “Violet, is that you?”

  Violet's eyes narrowed and her voice rose as though she was being threatened in some way. "Who are you? How do you know me?”

  "Don't you know me, Violet?" Dora tried to remain calm, but the look in the woman’s eyes was not normal.

  Violet didn't like this intruder. The woman had the gall to waltz right into Zachary's room. The rage filled up inside of her until she was blinded by the dark anger. No other woman belonged here. Without warning, Violet let out a screech and lunged at the unexpected Dora. She raised the knife and slashed. The housekeeper let out an agonizin
g scream before she crumpled to the floor, clutching at her stomach.

  Violet stood there for a moment just staring into space and humming a little tune she remembered from her childhood. She glanced down at her hand and saw the wet sticky substance covering it. Confused at first, then she remembered about the woman who had startled her. She stared at her still body sprawled at her feet. Strange and disquieting thoughts began to race through her mind. It finally registered what had happened. An icy fear clutched her heart, causing her to gasp and pant in terror. She spun around not knowing what to do. She spotted her old dress on the floor. A part of her recognized it, but another part of her mind wanted to block out the horrible truth from her. She grabbed the garment and bolted from the room and down the stairs. She was out of the house and kept on running.

  "What have I done? What have I done?" She ran as the primitive warning in her brain told her she had to keep going to survive. She ran until her chest felt as if it would burst and her legs wouldn’t obey her. She collapsed at the water's edge. She plunged her hands into the cool liquid and scrubbed them until her skin was raw. There was so much blood. "Come off!" she demanded, but no matter how hard she scrubbed, she couldn’t seem to rinse the red blood from her hands. She jerked to her feet and started running again until she had gone farther down river to where the water was deeper and the current was swifter. She had to rid herself of the blood. She jumped into the water, the current dragging her under. She let go of the dress she had been clutching as she desperately fought to come up for air and keep afloat. For a split second, sanity returned to her and she remembered the horrible deeds that were hers. Terrible regrets assailed her and the last traces of resistance vanished; she struggled, no more. Instead, she let the cool water pool over her. She began to sink, the sky disappearing above her as she used anguish as a rock to weigh her down.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Zachary finished replacing the roof hinges and climbed down the ladder. The sun was setting behind Creighton Manor and he knew he would lose light soon. He needed to pack up for the day. He was about to search for Tyler, when he spotted Sheriff Pete Johnson and his deputy Luke Vincent riding toward him. Zachary removed his hat and scratched his head, wondering what brought them all the way out here to see him. He placed his hat back on before he greeted the two men. "Hello, Pete. Luke."

  Luke nodded his head. He was a large man with eyes that were too small for his head. He had course black hair that stood up straight. He always seemed to have two to three day’s growth of hair on his face and he looked like he slept in his clothes. He didn't say much, which didn’t help his already ominous appearance. Zachary could only count a few words that the man had ever uttered. He mostly nodded or grunted his answers. Zachary knew Luke to be pretty handy with a firearm too. This was probably what landed him the job as one of the deputies. It definitely wasn’t for his people skills.

  Sheriff Pete Johnson was not a small man to say the least, but he had a pleasant face and an easygoing disposition, unless provoked. What Luke lacked in conversation, Pete made up in tenfold. The man could carry on a conversation even if you were stone deaf. He was also an honest lawman, which was sometimes hard to come by these days.

  Pete tipped his hat back. "Hello, Zachary." His voice was pleasant but the stress lines on his forehead let Zachary know this wasn’t a social call. "We need to ask you to come with us."

  "Is there a problem, Pete?" Zachary wasn't going anywhere without at least an explanation.

  "There has been an attempt . . ." He hesitated for a moment. “God, I hate this part of my job.”

  Zachary frowned. “What is it Pete?”

  He cleared his throat. “Dora was attacked."

  Zachary's faced paled. "Attacked? How? By whom? Is she all right?"

  The two lawmen exchanged an unreadable look before Pete answered him. "Dora has been critically injured."

  "I'll go and get Tyler. My God, Dora." Zachary turned to leave, but Pete stopped him.

  "You don't understand what I'm saying. We're taking you in."

  "For what?" Zachary shouted with impatience.

  "You’re under arrest for the attempted murder of Dora and for the possible murder of your wife."

  Zachary stared dumbfounded. This must be some sick joke, only no one was laughing. "Why on earth would I hurt Dora and as for Gillian, dear God, you think that I'd harm my own wife?"

  "We have a reliable source who says you threw a knife at Gillian in a fit of rage, and now it seems she has disappeared. Can you tell us where she is? We can clear that matter up right away."

  Zachary knew who the reliable source was and he could kick himself for encouraging Josephine Locke to think the worst of him. "Gillian is visiting family... abroad."

  "I see,” Pete said.

  Zachary could tell by the way the two men eyed him that they didn’t believe him. "Why aren't you looking for who attacked Dora instead of pointing a finger at me?"

  "Because Zachary, it was your knife we found next to Dora’s body."

  “Stabbed?” Zachary's jaw dropped in disbelief. “Hell and damnation,” he murmured, nervously rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger. Dora had been stabbed with his knife. No wonder, Pete and Luke were here. What were they supposed to think, especially with Josephine adding her own story to destroy his character?

  "Will you come peaceably or do we have to take you by force?" Pete waited for his answer, while Luke grunted and put his hand on the butt of his colt. Zachary had no doubt that Luke would use the weapon if he so much as batted his eyes the wrong way.

  "I will go with you, but I don’t want to frighten Tyler. I would ask that you don’t tie my hands. Please allow me to contact Lotti to take Tyler while I straighten up this misunderstanding."

  "I have your word that you will not run?"

  Zachary nodded. "You have my word."

  Luke grunted and looked almost disappointed that he wasn’t going to have the chance to use his weapon.

  ***

  Zachary was immediately escorted to a cell with one cot, table, chair, and a pot to relieve oneself if the need arose. Zachary cringed when the door to the cell clanked shut, leaving him alone with nothing but his thoughts. He sat down on the cot. He wasn't sure what he was going to do. Pete made it perfectly clear that there were no other suspects for the attempted murder of Dora. Since his housekeeper wasn’t in a position to tell them who had attacked her, Zachary would be held accountable for the deed.

  Pete had been kind enough to bring Tyler over to Lotti’s asking her to contact Ellery for him. When he heard the murmuring of voices, he sat up straight. Unfortunately, he couldn’t make out what was being discussed. Finally the talking ceased and the men entered. He relaxed when he saw Ellery. Luke followed behind and opened the door, promptly locking the cell once Ellery was inside. The man then left them alone.

  Zachary didn’t care for Ellery’s expression. It only confirmed that his predicament wasn’t good.

  Ellery removed his bowler hat, placing it on the table before he pulled out the chair and sat down. He took a deep breath before he spoke. "You are in trouble, my friend."

  "You can straighten it out. Can't you?"

  "I don't think you understand. You’re not only being held for the attempted murder of Dora, but also for the murder of your wife."

  Zachary jumped to his feet and started pacing. "How can they do that? That's completely ludicrous. If there isn't a body, how are they able to hold me for her murder?"

  "There's a witness who swears you confessed to foul play."

  Zachary whirled around to face him, his eyes narrowing. "What are you talking about? What witness? You don’t mean Josephine Locke?"

  "Yes, Josephine Locke. Didn’t I warn you? You shouldn’t have provoked her, but you didn't listen. She has everyone believing you tried to kill Gillian on the day you two were married, and she swears that you threatened her personally. The old busy body has convinced not only the ladies of the town, but now the she
riff is having serious doubts of your innocence. They all want to know where Gillian is, and the sheriff wants proof that she is alive and well. That means, my dear friend, she needs to show herself. However, we both know that is impossible.”

  Zachary sat down on the cot and leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. "This doesn’t look good, does it?"

  "Isn't that what I have been telling you? If Dora succumbs to her injury without naming her assailant, you will be the one that will be put on trial."

  "I could hang if I'm found guilty," Zachary stated.

  "That's exactly what will happen. If I didn't know better, with all the evidence stacked up against you, I'd think you were guilty."

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Gillian sat up in bed, shaking. Sweat poured down her face, while her heart raced and threatened to shatter as the fearful images came crashing down on her.

  Something horrible was going to happen.

  “Zachary!” She threw the covers off her and went to the bathroom turning on the light. She ran the faucet and splashed cold water on her face, trying to tell herself that it was just a silly dream.

  But what if it wasn’t? A cold knot formed in her stomach. She quickly turned off the faucet and picked up the towel. What could she do? Zachary lived in another century.

  He had already lived. To the world, he had died a long time ago.

  Zachary could never be truly dead to her. She had lived with him, touched him, laughed with him and even argued with him. He wasn't dead, not really. He was just living in another space and time, very much alive and in danger. She felt this in every fiber of her being.

  She had to know. She had to find out what happened to him. She put down the towel and went into the kitchen, turning on lights as she went. Grabbing the phone, she glanced at the clock on the wall. It was three o’clock in the morning. She couldn’t call Samantha. She was spending the night at her parents’ so she could help her mom paint the bonus room. Samantha was out of the question but . . . she bit her lip, wondering if she should call. She punched in the numbers before she changed her mind. Four rings and Jerry finally picked up. She could hear him fumbling with the receiver before he croaked his greeting. "Hello.”