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- 03/07/2017
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Dame - 16. Chapter 16
Seth still has doubts but Dorothy's on the case.
Bloody gloves.
“Strange how a hundred ladies attending the benefit wore long, white gloves but not you, Miss James.” The detective looked pointedly at the gloves Dorothy wore now.
Continuing, he pulled no punches when voicing his opinion of me.
“After you did your best to hide her identity, I had no choice but to follow you.”
Danny spoke up forcefully, “He didn’t do it!”
Detective Cavanaugh replied evenly, “I wasn’t accusing Mr. Graham.”
“No, I meant –” Danny froze and the silence hung heavy while the policeman scrutinized the lot of us.
The detective gave up a few more facts about the Senator’s murder. He’d been strangled by someone with brutal strength if the gruesome pictures in the folder were any proof. Nothing was missing from the Senator’s home nor was there evidence of a break-in indicating it had been no robbery.
“Much like Mr. Guisti’s murder, it was a personal and angry attack.”
“And you think one person committed both murders?” Dorothy challenged the detective.
“No, actually I don’t.” His eyes shot back and forth between Dorothy and Danny. “But what I think isn’t as important as what I can prove.”
The sun had almost set by the time we returned from the police station. Danny would be arraigned tomorrow morning and Mr. Spencer assured Dorothy bail would be posted.
Nothing about these murders made sense. I tried to back up to the beginning, think it through again. Dorothy stood in the middle of the hallway, one gloved hand frozen in the act of taking off the other glove. As she stood there staring at them, I told myself, “I know this dame, she’s no murderer. She wasn’t wearing gloves that night.”
An urge to run suddenly overwhelmed me. I needed to get out; leave and take her with me; let the rest of them be damned. We could find a place where no one knows us. Where Dorothy could be herself. No blackmail, no brothers, no police scrutiny. Just the two of us.
But that was my fear talking. She’d never leave Danny even if I asked.
“Seth, what if the Senator was killed to protect Damian’s murderer?”
Was she saying Danny killed to protect her or someone else?
“What are you thinking?”
“I think we need to look at that carriage house again.”
Those green eyes felt warm on my face, trusting, loving.
“I doubt they’ll just let us in.”
She smirked, “Didn’t stop us before.”
The tree lined street was still as quiet, looking exactly the same as the first time we’d visited. Nothing sinister lurked behind closed doors or so it seemed for a late afternoon.
Surprisingly the front door was open when Dorothy tried the latch. In the moment before my eyes adjusted to the light, a shadow moved from the far wall of the kitchenette. Jennifer Rutherford stood behind the counter and smiled. It was not friendly.
“Your call surprised me. I wouldn’t have thought you’d be interested in renting such a small place.”
I glanced at Dorothy, her face revealed little as she shrugged, “It would give us time to look around the neighborhood before buying.”
“Not much to see. All quite quiet,” Jennifer laughed.
The sound had an edge to it, bit into my nerves. She continued, her voice pitched lower, like a confession, “But you’ve been here before, right? That day. You knew him. Mr. –“
Paused, her mouth pulled down in a frown liked she’d tasted something rotten.
Dorothy smoothly finished for her, “Damian. Yes, we knew him.”
“Then you knew he was evil. Vile. Sick.” I could hear the disgust mount with each word. What can you say to that? He wasn’t a good man but he was none of those things.
“He didn’t mean you any harm.” Calm, determined, Dorothy punched the word ‘you’.
“Really?! He was a threat to everything Mike worked for. Everything we’d built.” Hysteria crept into her voice now. “The Senator was a gift to this nation. It wasn’t his fault yet that man’s evilness was destroying him. He had to be stopped.”
“Enough!” Michael Rutherford stood in the open doorway gaze fixed on his wife. “Jenny, hush. You need to stop talking.”
“Mike, what are you doing here?”
Dorothy put her hand out to Jennifer, “Those were your gloves the police found, weren’t they?”
“She had nothing to do with that man!” Mike roared at her.
“Mike, it was an accident!”
“Shut up, Jenny!”
Dorothy stepped toward the counter, “People don’t get stabbed by accident.”
“I saw them - that man and the Senator - they were arguing. I could hear what they said to each other. How could he – ?”
“Jenny, stop, we have to leave. I’ll take you away. Someplace you can get help. Look at me, I promise you’ll get better. We’ll get through this.”
Dorothy whirled around on the man as I moved to block her confrontation.
“So you can escape? At who’s expense? My brother’s?”
Now Michael’s face was flush, his anger rose to the surface. I tried to move faster as the voices started to overlap one another.
“He started this. The Senator would never have met that man if Daniel hadn’t known him. Jenny would never have ... reacted. I wouldn’t have had to do what was necessary.”
“Mike, what are you saying?”
Dorothy’s accusation rang from the walls, “That’s not justice. It’s cowardice.”
He swung around and wrapped one big paw around her throat.
“Shut up or I’ll snap your pretty little neck, too.”
Several things happened at once. Jennifer screamed, “Mike!” Dorothy clawed at the hand clutched around her throat while Michael dragged her closer pulling upward. Time slowed down as everyone moved in dream-like motion. I felt my heart stop.
Then it all sped back up and I was wrestling his arm away trying to break what felt like an iron grip. Jennifer’s screaming continued while I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder but nothing registered beyond how Dorothy’s mouth gaped open, her face turning a dark shade of purple, her eyelids fluttering.
Just as suddenly the grip faltered so I ripped it away. Michael had jerked backward into Jennifer, the two stumbling into a table. Dorothy was gasping as I picked her up and carried her out the open door into the deserted street.
Sorry for the cliffhanger but don't worry. I won't leave you hanging. Promise.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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