Nine
I didn’t know what to expect from bath-time. Whatever I had in my imagination, it wasn’t what happened. We were both taken to separate rooms, and I lowered myself into the water. The heat was scalding and at the same time, I barely felt it on my skin. I was thinking too much about everything else.
I could leave. Nothing was going to stop me. Not if I really wanted to be gone. And there had been no indication that Baron really intended to physically prevent me. If anything, he’d given me ample opportunities to go. The fact that I was still there should have told him something. It should have told me something.
I frowned. There were thoughts swirling in my head. I tried to figure what I was supposed to be thinking. More than that, I tried to figure what it was that I thought about Baron Euler. Which was the rub.
I thought that he was a criminal. I was never going to have any kind of future with a man like him, and I knew it. But there was something else in my feelings about him, too. Something that I should have scourged out of my heart from the first minute. I wanted him. And I wanted him to be something he wasn’t.
I wanted him to be good. But he was a killer, and my bottom still hurt from the paddling that I’d taken. I sunk lower in the water, and let the water scald my skin. Then I reached out of the tub, grabbed the big sponge, and doused it in the bathwater.
I took extra care in scrubbing my skin. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense, in a logical way. Of course there was nothing connecting my skin to the feelings in my chest. I wanted them gone. And the first thing that I needed was to be clean. Cleanliness, after all, is next to Godliness. And I needed to be quite a bit closer.
When I was done I pushed myself out of the water. I enjoyed the feeling of soaking; everyone does. But I had gotten used to being quick in the bath, nearly alone in the house with my brother. And I wasn’t going to allow myself any creature comforts while I was busy thinking sinful thoughts.
I pulled on my clothes and walked back to the bedroom. Then I settled into a chair and closed my eyes. I looked for the feeling of God in my heart. It took me longer than usual to find it. But eventually, I managed it, and then I took to prayer.
I hoped that it was going to help me find peace. I hoped in my heart that I was going to figure out how to get out of this mess. How to change Baron, or how to change myself. How to convince myself to leave. But there was nothing. Nothing but a vague sense that nothing was the way that I wanted it to be, and that things were going to get worse before they got better.
I picked up my shawl from on top of the dresser and wrapped it tight around my shoulders, and went back. If that was the result, then I had a lot more praying to do. First, because I was going to need strength to get through the tough times I knew were going to come. Second, because I wanted to give God a second chance to rescue me from my own bad intentions.
God would have answered, in time. He always does. But I didn’t give him the time to answer my prayers. Something came up, and I was in the middle of saying my prayers again when a knock came at the door. I pushed myself up from the chair. Baron wouldn’t have knocked. He had a key, and he’d proved more than once that he was unafraid to use it. For that matter, the door was unlocked as far as I knew.
My eyes flicked down to the lock on the door as I walked up. It was, indeed, unlocked. Whoever wanted in could have simply opened the door. Which meant that whoever it was they had decided to be polite by allowing me the courtesy of opening the door for them.
I did. The door opened. I pulled the shawl tighter. The man standing in front of me wore a suit. It wasn’t as nice as the one the man downstairs wore. He looked like he slept in it, and it looked road-worn. He had a hat in his hands.
“Ma’am?”
“Is there something I can help you with?”
“Is your husband in?”
I raised my eyebrow. “Husband?”
“According to the owner downstairs, you’re here with your husband?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “There must be some mistake.”
“Oh?”
“I’m not married,” I told him. I showed him my bare left hand. He looked at it a moment.
“So you’re not Missus Thomas Reede?” My lack of recognition must have showed on my face. I couldn’t decide whether or not I was angry with Baron for not mentioning the false name he’d given. It made for a good cover, though.
“I’ve never heard the name before in my life.”
Something in my gut told me that if he was looking for my husband, it wasn’t because he wanted a man named Thom Reede. He probably had some idea who he was looking for. I could tell because his hand kept adjusting itself on the hat, and then reaching to touch his hip. Like he wasn’t thinking about it, but he was very nervous.
“And you’re not here with your husband?”
“I’m afraid that you’ve wasted your time, Mister…”
“Krick. Detective Krick. I was sent here to find a Miss Marion Young, kidnapped by a… terrible fiend. But I suppose, if that’s not you…”
“No, sir,” I lied. I hoped that he didn’t see the lie in my eyes. I’d always had trouble deceiving people. But I did my best. And Detective Krick made me nervous, in spite of everything.
He looked at me hard. “You’re certain?”
“I would know, I think, if I was kidnapped, shouldn’t you think?” The laughter in my voice wasn’t forced. It was a silly notion, that someone might be uncertain that they were kidnapped or not.
He leaned into the room slightly, and his voice dropped very low.
“If you’re worried about any danger, ma’am…”
I also didn’t have to force the annoyance in my response. “I am not, sir. Thank you for your concern. Now. Please leave me in peace.”
He looked at me a long moment. I wanted him to go. He got the message, eventually, though it took him longer than I would have liked.
“Yes ma’am,” the Detective said finally. And then he stepped back and a moment later he was gone.