Chapter 8
Netherfield provided me with a fantastic breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice. I didn’t want to hurt the house’s feelings, so I ate as much as I could.
When I’d eaten my fill, I made a call to the local flower shop. “Hi, this is Charles Bingley,” I said. “I’d like to send some flowers, the prettiest you’ve got.”
“Excellent. What type of flowers?”
“Uh, I’m not sure. Whichever are the best, I suppose.”
She laughed. “I have a lot of ‘best’ flowers, depending on the occasion. But until I know if we’re going for a bridal bouquet, casket spray, wreath, basket arrangement, or something else, it’s hard to make a recommendation.”
A bead of sweat formed on my brow. “Oh dear. I hadn’t realized it would be so complicated.”
“That’s okay, I can help you out. What is the occasion?”
“I just want to send flowers to my… to Jane Bennet.”
I heard her smile through the phone as she said, “Okay, so you’re sending flowers to a woman with whom you have a connection, but it hasn’t been clearly defined yet, is that right?”
“Yes,” I said, slumping on to the couch.
“Okay, great. Then we need to figure out the right message to convey. For example, yellow roses symbolize friendship, while pink can mean gratitude or congratulations. White often symbolizes new love or loyalty, whereas light pink indicates appreciation.”
“Those all seem good. How do I decide?”
“You just pick the message you want to convey to her, and then we’ll arrange a bouquet accordingly. Red might be a good choice, that stands for love and admiration.”
“Yes, that would be good.” Or was that too serious? “Maybe a different color. What does orange mean?”
“Fascination.”
I bounced my foot on the floor over and over, a nervous habit no governess had ever been able to break me of, to Caroline and Louisa’s annoyance. “I’ll think on it and get back to you.”
“Okay, no problem. You could even stop by the shop if you’d like to browse.”
“Thank you very much,” I said. “I’ll consider that.”
After exchanging enough pleasantries that it started to feel awkward, I ended the call.
I reached for my keys in the bowl next to the door to the garage, but my fingers bumped up against soft velvet.
My grandmother’s ring box. I sighed through my smile.
Netherfield really wanted me to propose to Jane.
I wanted to call her, or stop by Cupid’s Confections, but I wanted to give her the space she needed, so I took Jaro to Regency Meadows Park instead.
The day was cold and clear, and Jaro looked so happy to be out exploring that I resolved to take him on more outings. He loved the grounds at Netherfield Park, but it was always nice to have a change.
The trees lining the park’s main thoroughfare glinted in the sunlight. I peered closer. Branches that should be bare were instead wreathed in metallic hearts. An enchanted Cupid zipped past me. The post office had enchanted a number of the plush cherubs to deliver valentine’s messages.
I kept Jaro on the leash even though I trusted him to stay with me.
I didn’t want other people to feel uncomfortable.
He was, after all, massive and wolfish, even if he was a big sweetheart.
Some people were intimidated and drifted to the other side of the path to create as much distance between them and Jaro as possible, but still more spoke to me, complimenting me on my beautiful dog.
I’d never had so many strangers talk to me on a walk before, and I quite enjoyed it.
As I walked, my thoughts kept drifting to Jane, but I dragged them back to the investigation. The best thing I could do for her right now would be to find out who the real killer was to take the heat off of her.
Brittany hadn’t thought any of the shelter employees would have killed Jeanine, and while I was inclined to agree that none of them seemed the type, there was no denying that they all had a motive. Especially considering the threatening note we’d found at her house.
The next step was to talk to one of them and hopefully get some more insight.
Herb would be a good person to start with.
I dropped Jaro off at home and headed to the shelter.
Though once I got there, I regretted not having him with me.
They were bound to get tired of me poking around their business and asking questions about the murder.
I got out of my car and leaned against it, trying to sort out how best to approach Herb.
Luckily, he came out the front door, sparing me from having to make a decision.
“Good morning, Charles,” he called, approaching. “How’s Jaro doing?”
“Very well, thank you. I took him on a walk in the park this morning and we both enjoyed it very much.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
I fell into step next to him. He limped slightly, something I hadn’t seen the last time I’d seen him.
“Is your leg sore today?” I asked.
He knocked his knee gently with his cane. “This leg acts up every now and again. I’m set to see the doctor next week.”
“I’ve got a bit of healing ability. I’d be happy to see what I could do if you’d like.”
He nodded. “Yes, thank you. There’s a bench up ahead at the end of the street, you can check it out there.”
We continued walking at his measured pace until we reached a white oak bench.
Its back sported a heart-shaped plaque with names on it.
I watched, fascinated, as the names changed from Benjamin+Judith to George+Lydia to John+Brooke.
Were these all couples in Austen Heights?
I didn’t know who the first or the last couple was, but the middle one had to be Lydia and George Wickham.
Did the bench name married couples, or did it include people who were dating?
If I waited here long enough, would Charles+Jane appear?
Or were we not far enough along in our relationship to warrant a spot on the plaque?
Herb sat gingerly on the bench, effectively bringing me back to the task at hand. I crouched and placed a hand on his knee. “I’ll just do a little magical delving to see if there’s anything I can do to help,” I said.
Herb nodded, and I let my magic guide me to Herb’s essence.
I’d offered to help in earnest, but now that I was here, it occurred to me that a murderer’s soul might be stained in some way that I could perceive.
But I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary in Herb.
I found the area of his spirit that corresponded to his knee and examined it.
It was the color of rust. I concentrated my magic on that part, radiating healing energy into it until the color returned to the same opal as the rest of his essence. Satisfied, I ended the magical connection and returned my attention to the physical world.
“How does that feel?” I asked.
Herb hesitantly bent his knee, then stood, and then jumped. He turned to me with wide eyes. “It feels like new. Thank you, Charles!”
I grinned. “I’m happy to help.”
He took a few more steps around the bench. “I don’t feel any soreness at all. Your magic truly is a gift.” He bent and touched his toes. “I don’t remember the last time I felt this good. How long will it last?”
“I’m afraid my healing isn’t a permanent solution or a cure-all. Joints wear out over time, even magically assisted ones. But it should keep you comfortable for a while.”
Herb stood a little straighter as we resumed our walk. “Does your magic work on other things? Alzheimer’s for example?”
“I’m afraid not,” I said. “Though it’s something I’d be interested in studying more about. I’m afraid I wasn’t a very good student; I prefer to be outdoors.”
He nodded. “Thought not, that’s what the doctors told me, both the regular ones and the fae ones. But no harm in checking.”
“I have to confess,” I said after another block. “I have no idea where you’re headed, but I have no destination in mind. I just started walking because I wanted to talk to you.”
“I figured you wanted company. That’s a big house for just one person,” he said.
News traveled fast in such a small town; it was no surprise he knew where I lived, especially since Netherfield was such a remarkable house.
What was surprising was the fact that he thought I was lonely. I didn’t seem lonely, did I?
“I’m on my way to visit my wife,” he said. “She’s at Austen Heights Senior Care and loves visitors. Would you like to join me?”
“It would be my honor. Do you visit her often?”
“I visit her every day.”
Such dedication was impressive. “That’s wonderful. I bet it’s nice to get to see her so often.”
He smiled sadly. “It is nice, but I miss her. Even when I get to spend time with her, I miss the vibrant person she used to be. Some days she’s more like her old self, and some days she doesn’t know who I am.”
I didn’t have the right words to comfort him, or the knowledge and magic to make her whole. But I could walk with him and I could listen.
“Sometimes it makes me happy to see my dearest love. Sometimes it makes me unimaginably sad to remember what we’ve lost. There are times when I know my visit brightens her day. But it doesn’t always seem to help.”
“But you go anyway.”
“Of course. I love her.”
We crossed the road and turned left, passing a corner store with dozens of heart-shaped balloons tied to a pole out front.
I didn’t have a way to ease Herb’s pain, but I could share some of my own. “I have a sister who I’m dying to see. But she’s in prison and I’m afraid it might be wrong for me to visit her.”
“Why would that be wrong?”
It was still hard for me to speak aloud. “Because she murdered someone.”
“Is that how you think of her, as a murderer?”
“Of course not. She’s my sister. But what she did was terrible. If I stay away, I can keep things straight in my mind. She’s being punished for her crime.”
“And you worry that you won’t feel that way if you see her?”