Chapter 15
Brightmore Gardens, 1830
It had been more than half an hour and Millie was alarmed. They had looked everywhere and the silence was deafening. There simply were no hiding places they hadn't checked. Eva looked at Millie with alarm. Even the birds seemed to stop chirping and an eerie quiet weighed heavy and wrong. Something was not right and it didn't feel right.
“Where is she? We looked everywhere,” Eva asked Millie.
“I will stay here and keep looking. You must go get your papa right away.”
“We will find her, will we not?” Eva said ready to cry, tears starting to spill onto her pump cheeks.
“Yes, dear, but hurry to get help. Time is of essence.” Eva ran off with her errand and Millie called out for Amy, knowing that something was terribly wrong and realizing there would be no answer. She even had the thought that Amy might have bumped her head and was unconscious, but she had looked everywhere and there was no sign of her friend anywhere. Besides this was not a serious game where one tried to outsmart a child.
Millie took a deep breath and said a prayer to herself. “Rats, Amy. Where are you? What has happened?” She walked the paths and looked at the same places over and over as if she somehow missed seeing her friend.
Suddenly she heard a commotion as the garden doors crashed open and Arden and Bradley burst through the opening with Eva following several paces behind. Arden looked around desperately until his eyes found Millie standing several feet from the entrance of the garden. Arden looked bleak and desperate. His eyes were narrowed and hard, his mouth grim. Gone were the sensitive, kind features that gave away his profession in medicine and helping people needing his medical service. He looked like a warrior ready to do battle. There were no soft sensitive lines on his normally calm kind face.
“What has happened, Millie? Eva said Amy has disappeared.” He asked seeking some comfort to what seemed a desperate situation. It was as if he was begging Millie to tell him a better story. Something not so tragic and bleak.
“We were playing hide and seek and Amy was to hide. We counted to fifty and then started to look for her and…she is nowhere to be found,” Millie stated with tears in her eyes. “What could have happened? I have looked everywhere and called for her until I am hoarse.”
“How long has she been gone?” Arden asked.
“At least twenty to thirty minutes. We have searched the garden…” Millie responded with despair.
“Could she have left the garden to fool you?” Arden asked, knowing that was a stupid thought.
“That would be cheating, and she would not do that…” Millie responded.
Arden turned to Bradley. “We will search for signs of a struggle or …anything that could give us an idea of what happened.” Bradley nodded. “Millie, please take Eva inside and leave this to us.” Millie broke into tears and grabbed Eva's hand as she took the child inside.
“What do you think of this?” Bradley asked as they started down the path.
“I can't imagine what happened. Who would want to take Amy?” Arden muttered. He took the right path and Bradley went left.
Arden was frantic. He looked around him from the top of plants to the cobblestone walkway. Signs. Anything that would help to explain what had happened. An indication of a struggle. By now two footmen and Godwin arrived for orders. The entire household was now notified and even the housekeeper had organized a search inside to rule out even the most remote of possibilities.
“Have the grounds searched. They aren't that far ahead of us. When we finish here, we will join some men on horseback. Arrange a search party as quickly as possible with men searching every direction at once.” Then he heard Bradley call out to him.
“Arden. Come here behind the shed,” Bradley yelled. As Arden approached Bradley, he saw his friend squatting looking at something on the ground. They both sniffed the air at once.
“Chloroform,” Arden whispered under his breath. Bradley grimly nodded.
“The air is thick with that smell, which probably means the event just occurred. And I found one of her slippers,” Bradley stated holding up a small silk slipper belonging to Amy.
After looking at the slipper, Arden had a fierce expression as he looked around for any other clues. “I'll kill the bastard,” he muttered.
“You'll have to catch him first. You don't have any enemies, do you Arden? I can't imagine with all you do for people, especially your tenants…and your poverty stricken patients too. Why, you're God to these people.”
Arden suddenly stopped his looking for clues and had a stricken expression on his face as he gazed at Bradley.
“What? You look like you've seen a ghost. What is it?” Bradley's voice raised several octaves as he urged Arden for an answer. Arden looked stunned and then anger overcame the first facial expression.
“Hell and damnation. On my wedding day a footman spotted Joseph Dodd on Brightmore estate.”
“Who the bloody hell is Joseph Dodd?” Bradley asked impatiently.
“He's the bastard I kicked off my estate when he beat his young son nearly to death. He was a tenant.” Arden started walking toward the garden gates which led to the stables. “I punched him in the face and took his wife and son to live and work here.”
“I believe that would qualify for an enemy,” Bradley said following Arden.
“I thought he was sniffing around to get a look at Jamie or Rosie, but now I realize he doesn't care about them. He never cared about them.”
“He wants vengeance,” Bradley offered. Arden nodded as he picked up his pace.
“Blast it to hell. I should have dealt with the threat then. I should have suspected something…,” Arden muttered under his breath.
“How could you know he meant to do this?” Bradley returned as they approached the stable. “How can you predict a demented mind?”
“I knew he was scum. He beat his wife and child. Had no work ethic, whatsoever. That is enough to concern someone who had their wits together. How could I allow myself to get so distracted? If he has harmed Amy…”
“We will find him. Amy is strong. She will be fine.” They saddled their horses. A search party was organized to cover a wider space with plans to meet and discuss their findings. They all started by looking for tracks.
****
Joseph Dodd slung Amy over the saddle and climbed up behind her. Unconsciousness from the chloroform made her easy to manage. He rode off laughing with glee to himself at what he had accomplished with so little effort. It wasn't a kind laugh but one built from deep down in his belly. His face was unshaven and dirty, but the evil grin that seemed impossible to lose was what created a face too frightening to even imagine. There was a surreal gleam in his eyes that hinted at madness. His plan was taking shape and how simple it all had been. He had seen Jamie and Rosie from a distance as he lay in wait. He had a perfect hiding place where he could see all the activity outside the stable and kitchen.
It had taken weeks of watching and careful calculation. Jamie was hardly recognizable with meat on his bones and no whipping marks or bruises on his body. Jamie's laughter had changed his facial features and it took some time before Joseph could determine it was his son. He had never heard his son laugh. What an odd sound it was. He even wore decent clothes and worked with the animals with confidence and pride. Joseph cursed as he thought of the man who now treated Jamie as a son, directing him on chores and the care of animals. Who the hell did he think he was? The hatred grew as he thought of what had been taken from him. He blamed so many, but never himself. He was the victim after all. Always had been.
And then there was Rosie who was seen outside the kitchen feeding the chickens. She was happy, smiling as she talked to the bloody damn chickens. Her red hair was neat and her clothes were new. He never liked her red hair. He made her wear it pulled back tight in a bun so he didn't have to look at it. She wore a clean apron with pockets holding grain for the chickens. Once when he was watching she called Jamie and he came and gave her a hardy hug and they talked. They both laughed at something and the scene Joseph witnessed made him growl and his beady eyes narrow to nearly invisible slits. He would curse and talk to himself about the lot dealt him.
The bloody Duke broke his nose twice! But he would get even and they all would be sorry. They would be sorry for throwing him out and taking what was his. He couldn't watch much more or he would be sick to his stomach. He got out a bottle of whisky he had stolen and drank from the mouth of the bottle as it slopped down his chin. He hadn't eaten in more than a day and his stomach grumbled in protest. He also hadn't had much sleep. The hatred was eating him alive. As much as he was enjoying his plan, he couldn't wait for it to be over. He wanted Brightmore to pay for what he had done. Just killing wasn't enough. He wanted more suffering. Just like he was suffering. An eye for an eye. The Bible would back him up on this. He decided to target the wife Brightmore was so proud to show off. He didn't know who the child was or the other chit playing games in the garden.
The horse he rode was a gift from Brightmore. He laughed at the thought. He had stolen the horse and felt justified in the action. Yes, his plan was all unfolding just as he wanted it to. Rosie and Jamie had been disloyal to him so they were not part of his plan, yet. If he could get some revenge on them, he would, but he had to stay focused on what was important now. They had all under estimated him. How he loved that. He would show them. His own body odor was beginning to gag him. Another swig of whisky would take care of that. He grinned at his brilliance.
He looked down at the woman hanging over his horse like a sack of potatoes. She bounced around like a bag of grain. She would be bruised and sore and he smiled at the thought. Served her right. He had to get to his hideout before dark. Time to concentrate. Otherwise he lapsed into near insanity. People had been looking at him talking to himself as if he were crazy and he realized he would have to be more careful when he was around people. It was becoming harder to concentrate partly due to drinking so much and partly due to the vein of hatred eating away at his thoughts. It interrupted everything he tried to do. Like another voice in his head trying to take over. He had to be strong and control this to succeed with his plan.