Chapter 20
Charles and I walked down Fifth Ave., watching shoppers carrying bags filled with holiday treasures. A deep chill tainted the breeze, and the last of the remaining fall leaves swirled through the air. “Do you feel relieved at all now, Charles?”
“I suppose so,” he replied. But the vacancy behind his eyes told me there was more on his mind. “Those two were on a rampage. I’m glad no one else is going to get hurt, but I feel responsible. I should’ve been more cautious with employees.”
“You couldn’t have known. Who would have thought that for three different murders, there would be three different killers—but all for the same reason?
Money.” I shook my head and looked up at the overcast November sky.
A few autumn leaves flew past us in the breeze, and it looked like it might snow any minute.
“I need to be more careful about who I hire. Three killers. How do you know who to trust?” Charles rubbed his hands together against the chilly air. “I don’t know if I’m cut out to be a CEO. I think I’d be just as happy spending all my time inventing things.”
“Money can do scary things to people.” A few snowflakes fluttered down from the sky. Status, wealth, money… I was tired of worrying about all of it.
Charles looked into the distance. “I noticed Ashley always had the most expensive clothes and shoes, but I figured she had a trust fund or something. I guess she’d actually been borrowing money from the wrong people.”
“I think she may have been buying drugs as well, or gambling. Ashley complained of headaches all the time. Maybe it was actually withdrawal or something. I suspect the police will find that what she injected Armond with is the same thing that killed Kyle.” I rubbed my temples because thinking about it all made my head hurt.
“Not that headaches are a sign of guilt.”
I linked my arm with Charles’s. It wasn’t the right time to initiate a talk about our relationship, even though the words were on the tip of my tongue.
Charles seemed like the kind of person that might go along with the suggestion of a relationship simply because of his good nature.
And no part of me wanted to push something that wasn't meant to happen, no matter how much it broke my heart.
“Jane.” Charles’s voice differed from moments earlier, softer. “Sorry I left Austen Heights without really talking to you. Darcy had a lot of say in how things are run, and he said it was urgent for me to get to Manhattan.”
Finally. He brought the subject up on his own. I gulped, not sure why his comment made my eyes sting with tears. “Oh?”
“I don’t want to do that to you again,” Charles said, and my heart fell to my stomach.
“Again? What do you mean?” Stopping my tears proved futile; I brushed them away, the wool of my gloves chilling my cheeks. “Are you going somewhere else?”
“Darcy wants me to transfer to Europe. We have a lot of business there and need to keep it organized.” Charles stopped walking and looked at me. “He just told me this morning. It’s not something I have a choice about. I wouldn’t have let things get this far if I’d known.”
“This far?” I asked, gulping back the lump in my throat.
His eyes settled on mine. “You must know I’ve fallen for you.”
“I wish you weren’t leaving,” I muttered, unable to look him in the eye for fear of breaking down in the middle of the sidewalk. He knew what we had and was willing to let it go.
“Jane.” Charles gently lifted my chin, pulled me in, and kissed me. This wasn’t a fake girlfriend kiss, either. This was real, and warm, and soft. He ran his fingers through my hair, and every part of me wanted to let him continue, to take it in.
But I pulled away. Before I allowed myself to speak, I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him with my cheek against his chest. Then I pulled in a shaky breath.
At least this time, he told me he was leaving.
The lump in my throat threatened to choke me as I spoke.
“Charles. I’m sorry, I can’t… But I hope you love Europe. They’re lucky to have you.”
He cupped my face in his hands, his eyes softened. Then he looked away, blinking. “I understand.”