Page 32 of Jane's Story
“Wow, this looks like one of those classic kid’s bedrooms in a movie.” Charles grinned at the novelty of sleeping in a normal bedroom. Considering Netherfield, his family estate near Austen Heights, he probably hardly, if ever, stayed in a place like this.
“I’ll be in the room next door if you need anything. Goodnight.” Moonbeam followed as we left him to get settled,and Aunt Penny walked with me to the “library.” Her now-grown twin boys once inhabited the room, which she’d since converted it into an office/library. She’d kept the bunk beds “just in case.”
“Sorry, Janey. I wasn’t sure if I should put your boyfriend up in a bunk bed.” She gave me a hug, and Moonbeam wove around my ankles. “I’m glad you’re back here and safe.”
“He’s not my boyfriend—I mean, we’re…” I didn’t know what to say.
“You sure?” She stepped back and looked into my eyes, still holding my shoulders.
“No.” A brief laugh escaped my lips, and I clapped my hand over my mouth. “No, I’m not.”
She whispered, “That boy is crazy about you. I know these things.”
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. Maybe. But hope was painful.
I lay next to Moonbeam on the bottom bunk where my cousins used to sleep, staring at the bedframe above me. There were still a few glow-in-the-darkstars and J.D.’s initials scratched into the wood.
I closed my eyes, focused on my breathing, and calmed my mind. Well, I tried to calm my mind. But sleep eluded me.
Finally, I gave up and made my way to the kitchen for a glass of water, nearly tripping over Moonbeam who followed me everywhere. I fumbled toward the cabinets without turning on any lights. Halfway across the linoleum floor, I stopped. A dark silhouette sat at the table.
“Jane?” a voice whispered.
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Oh my goodness, Charles? You scared the life out of me,” I whispered back.
“Sorry—couldn’t sleep. Didn’t want to wake anyone up.” I looked in his direction, and as my eyes adjusted, I made out his fae glow—almost invisible but ever present.
“Here.” I turned on the light above the oven. “Might as well be able to see each other.”
Charles sat at the table with a glass of water. He’d switched his usual suit for a gray T-shirt and flannel pajama pants. Moonbeam claimed his lap and curled up into a purring ball of fluff. “Couldn’t sleep, either?”
I shook my head and pulled a few mugs and a package of chamomile tea from the cupboard, then turned on the kettle. “This hasn’t been a normal day, has it?”
“Not at all. I’m sorry I’ve gotten you all mixed up in whatever this is. I think every possibility has run through my mind, and I’m suspicious of all of my colleagues.” Even in the faint oven lighting, the worry in his forehead showed. He shivered. His hair slightly damp and disheveled, and haunted shadows filled his eyes. Occasionally I got the sense that part of him was untamed, wanting to run wild and free.
“This taking a toll on you?” I sat across from him at the little kitchen table. “I can sense the worry emanating from you.”
He watched me with his deep turquoise eyes and cleared his throat. Despite being over six feet tall, the splash of freckles across his nose and cheeks gave him a charming vulnerability.
“I’m responsible for the people who work for me. I always hope when we hire someone, we’re changing their lives for the better. But now two people have died… I’m trying to think of an upside, but there isn’t one. At least Darcy is staying in his own penthouse tonight. So he and Georgiana should be safe, I guess.” His elbows were on the table, and he covered his face with his hands, then rubbed his temples. My aunt’s kitchen, or perhaps the dim lighting, emboldened me. I slid my chair next to his and patted his back.
“I’m glad they’re safe. You know, since neither of us can sleep, we should do a little research. I mean, if you think it will help.”
“I’d like that. I’ll grab my laptop.” Charles stood and left the kitchen. I took a moment to set up the table with chamomile tea, honey, toast, my notebook, and some pens. Then I stepped into the laundry room next to the kitchen and threw a couple of blankets in the dryer to warm. Aunt Penny always kept them there in the winter for that exact purpose. I didn’t want to wake anyone else up, so I left the main lights off but turned on a corner lamp and lit a few candles. Then I ran my fingers through my hair, hoping I looked decent.
Charles came back with his laptop. It looked like he’d combed his hair a bit as well. Before sitting, I pulled the warm blankets from the dryer, draped one of them around his shoulders, and servedhim a cup of tea. He glanced around at the setup. “Wow, this is perfect—a warm blanket and everything."
"I can't take credit for that. Aunt Penny warms them all the time."
"This home is magical," Charles muttered to himself. Then he turned to me. "In all honesty, I’m not sure where to start.”
The thought that this would be something a married couple would do…sit at the kitchen table and work into the early morning hours on an arduous task, crossed my mind. But mostly, a truly dedicated couple would always be there to support each other through whatever came their way.
“Well, I always make a list when I don’t know where to begin.” I scooted my chair next to Charles and opened the notebook I’d been using to jot clues in. He’d recently showered and smelled like soap. “I can be your scribe as you go through the list. Later we can look over the photos… I took hundreds.”
“Smart idea.” Charles sipped his tea, then clicked on his keyboard. “There’s not a magic spell that can help you know who on a list of suspects is guilty, is there?”
