14. Chapter 14
Jack pursed his lips. “But Gladys is a sweet old lady.”
I let out a huff of air. “I know. But we can’t let her get away with murder because we like her.”
Jack resumed walking down the sidewalk again, taking my hand in his. “What’s our play? Are you going to involve the police now?”
“Yes. But first, we have to get her to admit what she did.” We split up when we reached the car. I turned up the seat warmers and made a few calls while Jack stopped by Cupid’s Confections.
“I won’t have you confronting a killer on an empty stomach,” he said when he got back.
He handed me a small, aromatic loaf of pumpkin chocolate chip bread.
I nibbled on a thick slice as he drove us back to Netherfield, and it did make me feel better.
Maybe the Bennets’ menu included recipes that made one feel braver.
We carefully wrapped up the mirror in bubble wrap and Jack set it gently in the back of my car. I ate another slice of the delicious bread as we drove to Gladys’s house. If all their bakes were this good, maybe I would have to try harder to be friends with the Bennets.
The rain started in earnest as I rang the bell at Gladys’s house. The butler let us in and Jack carefully navigated the hallway with the mirror in tow.
We stopped in the living room and my breath caught in my chest. The space was exactly as I had envisioned it.
The burgundy damask wallpaper and new flooring shone in the light of the fixtures I’d chosen.
The furniture had been returned to the room, gathered around a gorgeous rug.
All that was left to do was stage it, my favorite part of any project.
My heart sank at how—if this went well—I would never get to finish it.
Jack carried the mirror and carefully set it in the sitting room.
I threw away the bubble wrap and adjusted its position until it was just right.
A few moments later, Gladys entered the room.
“I assume you’re here to finish—” She gasped as she saw the mirror and she sank into the gnome-sized, tufted Victorian sofa.
Tears sprang into the corners of her large eyes.
“I came to return your mirror,” I said softly.
She reached out a shaking hand and gently, almost reverently, ran a finger over the patina scrollwork.
I waited patiently as she gazed into the mirror for a few long minutes, tears misting her eyes. Jack stood behind me, his chin on my shoulder and his arms around my waist.
When Gladys had looked her fill, she turned to me. “When we’re old, all we have left of value is our memory.”
I grasped her hand. Her skin was softer than swan feathers and as thin as paper. It shook slightly, but her voice was steady when she asked, “How did you know the mirror was mine?”
“I didn’t know for certain, but I knew Genevieve had taken a mirror from you and sold it to Mr. McFarland. I had a hunch this was that mirror.”
Gladys took a shaky breath. “She posed as a designer and I trusted her. I let her into my home. She acted as though she was working on decorating it, but her progress was slow and nothing materialized. I started losing track of some of my things and I worried I was getting forgetful. Then this mirror disappeared. Genevieve put a clever forgery in its place, but when I went to say goodnight to my Henry, he didn’t appear in the mirror.
” She saw my puzzled expression and added, “Henry is my late husband. The mirror makes me feel connected to him, lets me hear his voice again and relive treasured memories.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said softly. “It was wrong of her. But you shouldn’t have killed her for it.”
Gladys sighed. “I will admit to no such thing.”
I patted her hand gently. “Let me tell you what I think happened. I think you saw her at my party. You confronted her in the breakfast room and she denied taking the mirror, or she told you it was already sold, and you got angry. You used your telekinesis to strike her in the head with the Celtic knot. It may have even been an accident. But she died.”
Gladys crossed her arms around her chest. “You think that is what happened, but you do not know for certain. Which is why you are here with only your handsome bodyguard and not the police. You haven’t got any evidence.”
I shook my head. “The mirror could show them exactly what happened.” I ran my hand along the scrolled edge.
Gladys’s eyes widened, and even though I knew she’d killed a woman, I felt a little sorry for her as I said, “If you don’t confess to the crime, I’d be obligated to hand the mirror over to the police as evidence. ”
Her eyes hardened. “You think they won’t take it anyway? What would happen to all my worldly possessions if I went to prison?”
“Perhaps you’d rather they be in the hands of your heir than in some dusty old evidence room,” I said gently.
“I want your word,” she said, her voice soft and trembling.
“I promise if you turn yourself in I’ll make sure your things, and this mirror in particular, go to your heir.”
She hung her head. “Catherine was being insufferable and I needed a break from her. I slunk away to the closest private space—your breakfast room. I saw a woman there who looked exactly like you, though I’d just passed you on my way in.
When she greeted me by name, she sounded exactly like Geneveive, so I addressed her as such and she responded, though a moment later she realized her mistake.
She became flustered when I asked her why she was impersonating you. ”
I listened, and dread curled in my stomach, though I already knew how this story would end.
“I noticed she’d been attempting to remove a mirror from the wall.
I looked more closely and saw that it was my mirror.
I told her to return it but she said it was too late, that I’d never see the mirror again—never see my Henry again.
I was so upset that I hurled the Celtic knot at her.
But I missed and my mirror shattered into a thousand pieces.
Geneveive laughed and taunted that it was broken and I had no one to blame but myself.
I don’t know what came over me, but I was so angry that I threw the knot at her again, this time using my powers, and it hit her on the side of the head.
” Her voice broke. “It killed her instantly.” Gladys brought a handkerchief to her eyes.
“Please believe me, I didn’t mean for her to die. ”
“I believe you,” I said, “but why did you frame Sydney?”
She sniffled. “Things got out of hand. When you realized that you weren’t the target of the murder, I knew I needed to cast suspicion on someone else. So I framed her. I’m sorry.”
I didn’t feel like it was my place to accept her apology, but I helped her up from her chair. “I’ll take you to the police station if you prefer, so they won’t arrest you from your home.”
She smiled sadly. “Thank you for letting me preserve what dignity I can.”
I drove, with Gladys in the front seat and Jack sitting in the back, watchful. But she was calm all the way to the station, and when we met with the police chief in his office, she told him exactly what she’d told me, minus the significance of the mirror.
As the chief put her in handcuffs, I felt a rush of contradictory emotions, sadness for the woman who had taken a chance on me as a designer, relief that Genevieve’s killer was facing justice, and pride in myself for solving the crime.
An officer led Gladys away for booking, and the chief looked over at us. “Are you waiting for a reward or something?”
I bristled at his tone. “I’m waiting for you to release my friend. Now that the real killer has confessed to the crime, I’m assuming that shouldn’t be a problem.”
He gave me a hard stare. “There’s some paperwork I’ll need to process and—”
“I’ll wait,” I said firmly, settling down deeper into the tacky plastic seat.
Jack shot me a questioning look, silently asking if I needed backup. I winked at him, conveying wordlessly that I had the situation under control.
The chief gritted his teeth. “Let me show you to the waiting room.”
I waved my hand. “No, thank you. This will be fine.” I stretched my arms over my head for a few long seconds before resting them on the arms of the chair.
“Darcy told me how accommodating you’ve been.
He’ll be glad to hear that you are equally helpful to his close friends. ” I crossed one leg over the other.
The chief let out a huff of air and strode from the office, hopefully to rescue Sydney.
Jack reached over and squeezed my hand. “Good work. I’ll be glad when my sister is out of this place and we can put it all behind us.”
I squeezed his hand. “Me too. Thanks for your help. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Did you mean what you told Gladys?”
“About what?”
“About giving the mirror to her heir. I thought you were dead set on using it at Rosings Park.”
I smiled. “I did my research before making that promise. Since Gladys has no children, she is bequeathing all her worldly possessions to her goddaughter.”
I could tell by the twinkle in Jack’s eye that he guessed the truth but he let me have my moment and asked, “And who is that?”
I grinned. “Anne de Bourgh.”
Within fifteen minutes, Sydney had been cleared of all charges and released.
The three of us shared the biggest group hug ever before returning back to Netherfield.
Sydney and I sat on the comfy sectional Charles had insisted I order and Jack went to get takeout, though he shouldn’t have bothered because Netherfield outdid itself in spoiling Sydney.
The end table next to her was piled high with snacks, a heated blanket, slippers, a burning candle, and even a stuffed elephant.
She laughed and patted the wall. “Thank you, but I’m fine, really,” she said to the house. She turned to me. “Sorry about losing you the de Bourgh job,” she said. “But you can’t fire me—I have a ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ Card, remember?”
I laughed. “I have no intention of firing you.” I passed her a stack of business cards. “This is just a mock-up. You can make changes with the graphic designer to come up with something you love.”
Her eyes widened as she took in the logo of elegant, intertwined Ls and the names on the card. She recovered and handed it back with a smirk. “I’m afraid you meant this for someone else.”
“Oh, and why would you think that?”
“Because this card says, ‘Lyn and ‘Line Design. And I’m pretty sure you told me I have to go by Sydney.”
I tsked. “Yes, well, I changed my mind. If you’re going to be my partner, I suppose I’ll have to start calling you by your actual name.”
Sydney—no, Carolyn narrowed her eyes. “You’re not just asking me to be your business partner because you’re broke, are you?”
I laughed. “Of course not. I’ll front my half of the money.”
“I thought you didn’t want to accept any more money from Charles?”
“It’s not his money. It was a gift from Louisa.”
She gave me an assessing look and I didn’t try to hide my emotions from her. “It’s humbling,” I said in answer to her unasked question. “I hate not having my own money. Let’s hurry up and get rich on our own merits.”
“Yes, let’s!” She looked at the business card again. “This has an address in Austen Heights.”
“I’d still like to eventually expand to New York, but I’ve decided Austen Heights isn’t such a bad place to live. For a while at least.”
“That sounds great to me.”
“I never did thank you for hiring Jack,” I said.
She grinned. “No, but he has. Multiple times.”
“That’s why you wanted the ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ Card, isn’t it? You tricked me into thinking I was paying him, when really he was a volunteer.
“Of course,” she said with a smirk.
“Why didn’t you just tell me that he was basically everything I want and set us up like a normal person would? You could have saved me a lot of drama.”
She rolled her eyes. “One—because you love the drama. And two—I knew you would want him more if you couldn’t have him. I don’t think you would have let him get this close to you unless you thought he was safely out of range.”
I shook my head. “You really are a genius, you know.”
She flipped her hair in imitation of me. “I know.”
My phone lit up with a notification. I scanned it, butterflies from joy and nerves rising in my stomach. “I just heard back from our first client,” I practically squealed. “And it’s Lady Catherine de Bourgh!”
“No way! We’re decorating Rosings Park?”
“Not quite. Apparently she told Pastor Collins that he needs to find himself a wife. We’ll be renovating his home to make it ‘suitable for a married man.’ But if we do a good job, which we absolutely will, she said she would hire us to decorate Rosings Park for Christmas.”
Carolyn sighed happily. “Oh, we could make that place look absolutely magical.”
Jack came in with a bag full of little white takeout boxes from the best Chinese restaurant in town. I sprang from my chair and wrapped my arms around his neck. “You really are the best boyfriend.” I kissed him lightly on the lips.
The three of us relaxed on the couch, eating and laughing and dreaming of the future that was the brightest it had ever been.