by Midge Cline
“Yeah, go ahead. I will have to get her statement.” Albert told him. “And it will have to be today. I can give her about an hour.” He said with deep compassion.
Nigel nodded his understanding, then went to be with his family.
****
Colt stood at the pond, nearly in the exact spot in which Binne’s ordeal had begun. He fought back the angry tears, the rage building inside of him.
“Son,” Tate Brooks stepped up beside his son and placed a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I am not stupid enough to ask if you are okay. I just want you to know I am here for you if you need me.”
“How? How does a man ever feel he has the right to hurt someone, just because they are a girl?” Colt’s words wrapped in rage and hatred. “He deserved what he got.”
“Maybe he did, maybe he deserved more, or even less.” Tate said. “It is not our place to judge what another deserves.” He said the words, though he truly felt Bob Wyatt deserved a fate more painful than the one he received. “The only thing that really matters is Binne, and she is okay. She is such a strong girl, and she has all of us here to help her. She will always come out on top.”
“Dad, she is my best friend, she gets me. I should have protected her.” Colt’s eyes filled with tears, which he quickly blinked back.
“Oh yeah, for sure, you should have been guarding the girl at 5 o’clock in the morning as she went out on her own property, with a pack of mini-guard dogs to practice her martial arts. You should have known, somehow, that Bob Wyatt is a deranged pervert who would wait in the bushes all night long waiting for a chance to pounce on her. There is absolutely no excuse for you allowing the actions of another human being to effect the life of someone you care about.” Tate’s voice rose with each word, until he was nearly yelling. “It should, forever, be your responsibility to control the world around you and the actions of others. Because I forgot you are not just an Irishman, but an omniscient Irish God with the powers to fix the world.”
“I am not saying that, I’m saying that Binne should never have had to deal with this shit!” Colt yelled the tears running down his face full speed now. His pain so great he did not even think to censor the curse word before he spoke.
“Maybe not. Maybe yes. Maybe this is part of the universe's plan to teach her something she needs to know. Maybe it is vital to some event in her future. Maybe this event needed to happen because she would be the cause of his demise, the reason future children are now safe from him.” Tate explained slowly.
“Dad.” Colt whispered “Why Binne?”
“I think maybe Bob Wyatt had a lot of mental issues, Binne was kind, compassionate and respectful in her manners and dealings with him. Maybe that is what he needed as his victim type. We will never know. But you will always know that Binne is safe, that Binne Morgan can take care of herself. And that the universe seems to want to keep her around a bit longer.” Tate patted his son’s back, “She is in the sitting room, she asked me to see if you would come kill zombies with her. You must be strong for her. And for yourself.”
****
Colt found Binne sitting on the floor in front of the television, her back resting against the sofa, blanket at her side, dogs never more than an arm’s reach away.
“Psst.” He said. “Hey if you are done being fussed over and pampered like some pansy princess, I brought you some cheer up stuff.” He whispered looking conspiratorially about him.
“Stuff? I like stuff.” Binne smiled.
“I figured you have been stuffed with restorative teas and digestive biscuits and all the damn pats and hugs and tears you can handle.” He said. “So, I brought you some beef jerky, caramels, chocolate mints, licorice and high voltage massive caffeine energy drinks.” He laughed as he showed her the hidden treasures hidden in the pockets of his jacket.
“You are the best Colt Brooks, I don’t care what they say about you.” She laughed.
“Look, I am only going to say this once, I am not all about the sappy crap.” He hooked her chin with his finger and lifted her face so he could meet her eyes. “You, Binne Morgan, are my best friend, I love you. I will never be able to get rid of the gnawing guilt that somehow, I should have been able to protect you from Wyatt, just as you will never escape the guilt of knowing you caused another person’s death, no matter if it was deserved or not. But WE will deal with it together. Today and tomorrow, and all the other tomorrow’s that come. That is what best friends do.”
“I love you too, ya big Irish lug.” Binne reached over and placed a loving kiss on Colt’s cheek. “Now prepare to kill zombies with me, or I will never speak to you again as long as I live.”
****
Epilogue: One Year Later
Bonnie Brooks fussed over the cream-colored tablecloths and bright floral centerpieces in the finished dining room. Tate and Nigel had renovated the solarium beside the Hall’s enormous kitchen. New floors, and lovely tables sat within the glass walls and ceiling enjoying every delight Mother Nature offered, no matter the season. The carefully landscaped garden surrounding them brought the dining room to life with vibrant colors and robust aromas. Soft, classical music was nearly audible over the speaker system hidden in the corners.
“They are arriving! Oh, Dear God, they are arriving!” Gwynn yelled nervously as she saw the cars begin to fill the gravel lot to the side of the new dining room. “They are early the Museum does not open for another 15 minutes!” She exclaimed in horror.
“I bet they want to ensure they get a good table.” Tate said as he came in the room.
“And they may want to tour the grounds before they hit the exhibits.” Nigel said, entering behind Tate and placing a kiss on his wife’s forehead. “And before they fill up on the incredible food. Stop panicking, the food is perfect, the menu is perfect, the chef is perfect. Everything is perfect.”
“Mom!” Binne called from the doorway. “The fur-beasts are locked in the kennel outside, all doors to the family wing of the Hall are secured. Do you need Colt and I for anything else?”
“No, you two have done more than your share already. Go on, get to the shop then” Gwynn said with a grateful smile.
“Ok.” Binne called over her shoulder as she slipped her hand into Colt’s and they ran out the front doors of the Hall before they could be called back in to help.
“The last year has been a chaotic, hectic ball of business.” Binne said as they joined Malcolm, Harry and Millie in the tower gift shop. Once the renovations had been completed, it was decided that the main floor of the tower would be the most ideal for the gift shop, the upper floors held the small ‘Douglas Gallery’, a part of the museum dedicated to the history of the missing and murdered in the County, including those presumed to be victims of the Wyndham family. Portraits had been found, purchased and displayed whenever possible and hung from the walls, Mary Katherine Douglas and her brother Lord Keith Douglas were displayed prominently, surrounded by sketches and photos of many young sad faces. The large quilt Nigel and Binne had purchased at the fete, was displayed with pride on a beautiful oak display rack. Newspaper articles had been framed and hung alongside missing persons bulletins where patrons could peruse them as they walked among the displays of clothing, tools and equipment which had been used to catch criminals over the last 6 centuries. Binne and Colt had created an entire exhibit about the ancient Brehon Laws of Ireland, which had controlled the actions of the people for centuries before the introduction of Anglo-Saxon laws. The updated prison cells on the top floor had been renovated, one of which had the distinction of containing the restored portrait of John Wyndham. The public did not need to know that the current residents of the hall locked the cell door every night.
“We still have the wedding tomorrow,” Colt reminded her with a smile as he grabbed cold drinks from the mini-fridge hidden beneath the sales counter and handed one to her.
“It isn’t a wedding, silly, it is a vow renewal. Uncle Dexter and Auntie are just confirming the vows they mad
e forever ago.” Binne laughed. “I think it is romantic, almost as romantic as Alex proposing to Pippa at the school groundbreaking ceremony.”
Alex and Pippa had a six month long whirlwind romance, culminating in a romantic proposal from Alex over the loudspeaker during the Trade School groundbreaking. Her father’s mouth opened as if to protest, but a stern glare from the Duchess Seriah Jayna Browning silenced him on the spot. He could protest, but it would not be tolerated to do so publicly, in this time and place. Hours later, in the privacy of the kitchen at the Hall, he had threatened her with disownment and exclusion from her inheritance. He backed down when she stood her ground, secure in the knowledge that she and Alex would be fine with or without the monies in her father’s coffers.
Malcolm had been told by the gypsy's that it was safe for him to return to Wyndham Hall Estate once they had finished with the crossing over ceremony. The entire Gypsy clan had arrived at the estate, at midnight, seven days after Binne’s attack. They danced and chanted, burnt smelly incense and played mystical music until the sun rose. The gypsies had guided the tormented spirits across to the other side of the veil, away from the land of the living. Food, music and fun filled the days that followed. The ghosts had not officially been seen at the Hall since, and Malcolm was free to walk the grounds once again.
“These are so cool!” Malcolm exclaimed as he looked at the various items available for purchase. T-shirts, coffee mugs, keychains, maps, books and a plethora of other items crowded into the long narrow display cases, hung on racks or rested on baskets along the top. “I think I will take a keychain and an ‘I walked the Hall and lived to tell about it’ T-shirt.”
“Our first sale!” Binne exclaimed as she rung up the items and took Malcolm’s money. Whatever reply he had was lost in the din as the shop became crowded with shoppers and tourists.
Suddenly Binne Morgan stopped in mid-sentence with a customer. Her eyes fixed coldly at the floor rug that discreetly covered the trap door from the public eye.
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, she would have sworn she heard the faint sound of children laughing. The kind of laughter that comes with being free and safe.
Midge Cline is an American author in the State of Washington. This Wife, Mother of 4, Grandmother of 4, and Godmother of 4, is delightfully owned by 3 adorable and well spoiled dogs. She loves mysteries, suspense, and horror.
All of Mrs. Cline’s books are dedicated to her family and friends. Whom have been sources of immeasurable value and Inspiration beyond explanation. Mrs. Cline is assisted in her work by her personal intern and close friend Sarah-Jane Wright of Peterborough, UK.
You can follow Mrs. Cline on Twitter @ClineMidge and on her Facebook group: https://www.Facebook.com/groups/1920427848022157