Price of a Bounty (Reliance on Citizens Makes Us Great!) (15 page)

Had
I made a mistake?
Maybe Ashton had only been pressing me to make
a decision because he knew he would have to leave for a while.
Hopefully, he would return.

The
butler said, “The Becketts are expecting guests for dinner.
Prepare the formal dining room for six. Use the best china and
silverware.”

I
began by spreading out a pretty white silk tablecloth. Then I looked
for the silver candlesticks but was unable to find them. Instead, I
grabbed a pair of crystal candlesticks. I took them into the kitchen
and washed them in warm sudsy water. I held them up and smiled as
they sparkled in the sunlight. I returned to the dining room,
inserted some pale green candles into the holders and placed them in
the center of the table.

Next,
I took a crystal vase and pair of garden sheers out back and prepared
a pretty tulip centerpiece. As I passed through the kitchen on my
way to the formal dining room, I saw that Lewis was already preparing
the salad.
I removed the china dishes from the display
case in the far corner of the room and set out the dinner plates
first, with salad plates placed neatly on top and coffee cups on
saucers placed in the upper right. I carried the dessert plates to
the kitchen so Lewis could prepare them for later. He joined me in
the dining room and dished up the salad while I pulled open the top
drawer of the buffet table and removed some pale green silk napkins
that matched the candles perfectly. I folded them in a pretty design
and placed one next to each plate.

I
returned to the buffet table and pulled open the bottom drawer. The
best silverware was missing. I pulled open the side cabinets. The
silverware was nowhere to be found.

“Lewis,
have you seen the silverware?”

“No,
but you best get a move on.” He returned to the kitchen.

I
stood and looked around the room carefully. Was anything else
missing? I noticed an empty pedestal in a corner. What had been
there? It was a small statue, the head of a man. It was gone too.
Also there was an empty nail on the wall where a small painting had
once hung.

I
checked the time. Lewis was right, the guests would arrive shortly,
but I had enough time to inform Mrs. Beckett. I walked up to the
master bedroom and knocked lightly on the door.

“Enter!”
boomed Mr. Beckett’s voice.

Oh
no!
I pushed the door ajar and saw Mrs. Beckett finishing the
knot on Mr. Beckett’s tie. They both looked at me.

“Is
the dining room ready, dear?” asked Mrs. Beckett.

“That’s
what I came to talk with you about.”

“My
dear,” said Mr. Beckett. “Our guests will be here any
minute. If there’s a problem, you’d best remedy it quickly.”

“Yes,
sir.” I fled downstairs and retrieved the second best
silverware from the kitchen. Then I finished preparing the dining
table and returned to the kitchen to await further instructions.

Nothing
out of the ordinary happened during the meal. However, later that
night, after their guests were gone, Mr. Beckett requested my
presence in his study. I felt sick.

“You
wanted to talk with me and my wife earlier. I think I know what
about. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“What?
I just wanted to report that the silverware was missing. That’s why
I set out the second best set.”

“That’s
not all that has gone missing.” He paused. “I see that
doesn’t surprise you.”

I
hung my head. “No, sir. I noticed a few other items were
missing when I set up for dinner today.”

“I
expect you knew they were gone long before that, and I’ll expect you
to return everything by tomorrow morning.”

I
looked directly at him and said, “But, I don’t have them! I
don’t know where they are!”

Lance
Beckett strode toward me. He gripped me by the neck and pulled me
forward so my face was mere centimeters from his.

“Then
you will find them.” Violently, he threw me to the ground.

I
turned and tried to brace myself but cried out as the corner of my
right eye glanced off the wooden arm of a chair. I hit the floor
hard. Snap!
What was that?
The belt slapped across my back.
I screamed in agony, but he didn’t stop. He struck again and again.
Tears streamed down my face and
soaked the carpet beneath me.

Then
Lance Beckett grabbed my upper arms and spun me around. His eyes
bore into me. I had never seen him so irate, yet he seemed to be
studying me. Was he deciding how to kill me?

Quietly
and slowly he spoke. I felt his breath brush over my face. “She
must be mistaken. There’s nothing special about you,” he
sneered, “and now that you owe me for all that was stolen, she
will never have you. I don’t care how high and mighty she is.
Until your debt is paid, I…own…you.”

What’s
he talking about? Who is SHE?

But
I had no more time to wonder about it. He took me then and all
rational thought flew from my mind. Never before had he been so
brutal. When it was over, I couldn’t walk. It was painful just to
stand.

Mr.
Beckett grabbed me by the arm, lifted me and escorted me to my room.
The door clicked shut, and the outer lock slid into place. I turned
to the corner and threw up.

-Keira-

The
Lake

We
began our holiday at dawn. A grey hazy sky gradually brightened,
turning yellow and finally, blue. We experienced little traffic
along the way – some service trucks, semis transporting goods
and military vehicles, very few cars.

When
we arrived, rays of mid-morning sunlight fell upon the lake and made
the ripples sparkle like diamonds. The falls roared in the distance.
I’d never imagined anything could be so beautiful! Even the rustic
cabin was perfect. We spent the day alternately talking and resting
peacefully to a backdrop of birds twittering and wind soughing in the
trees.

The
first night, after we climbed under the covers, I leaned in for a
kiss, but Guy gently pushed me back. He studied me intently for a
few minutes.

“Something
is different.” His finger brushed against my face just over my
left eyebrow where I’d been nicked by a knife. “Didn’t you
have a small scar there?”

“Yes,
and I’m sure I still do.”

“It
must be the lighting. How did you get it?” he asked.

“One
of my marks grabbed a brass letter opener. Fortunately, my knife was
bigger.”

Guy
moved down and kissed my left shoulder. That scar was covered now,
but he was aware of it.

“What
about that one?”

“It
was my first.”

“Tell
me about it.”

“I
don’t really like to think about it.” I pulled the
blankets up under my chin and began to turn away.

“Please?”

I
sighed. “It happened shortly after I turned 16. A man I was
staying with burned me with his cigar. He’d laughed and told me he
was branding me. He said I belonged to him. A few nights later,
after he fell asleep, I made sure he understood that no one owns me.”

Guy
stared at me. I could sense his thoughts, but he remained silent.

I
decided to answer his unspoken question. “I didn’t kill him.
I simply took a few of his fingers and told him they belonged to me.
I figured it was a fair exchange. That’s when I began making a name
for myself. After that, anyone who hurt me paid for it.”

Guy
took my right hand and turned my arm to reveal the scar left from
when I’d tried to take my own life. Even I could hardly see it.
Funny, I thought it was more noticeable.

“I
can guess what happened here. Do you want to talk about it?”

I
shook my head, and he kissed that one too.

“May
I see the others?”

I
sat up, turned and lifted my t-shirt.

“There’s
nothing here.”

“You
can feel them.”

He
ran his fingers over my back. “Yes, there they are.”
His warm soft lips kissed each scar in turn.

***

The
next morning we drove closer to the falls. Their raw power was a
beauty beyond words. We drove back in silence, and then ate a picnic
lunch in front of the cabin. Afterward, we lounged on a blanket on
top of soft pine needles and discussed the ballet we’d attended a few
days ago, my first ever, when I remembered something from weeks ago.

“Guy?”
I asked lazily.

“Yes?”

“Eberhardt
told me that you chose your name. What does it mean? Why did you
choose Guy?”

He
propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at me. “I
needed a new identity, for the Resistance.”

I
nodded.

“So
I did some research. I wanted my name to reflect who I was, my new
role. I read somewhere that the name Guy may come from the ancient
word “guie,” meaning guide or leader. That was exactly
what I wanted, to guide people to safety.”

“And
Bensen?”

“It
means warrior.”

“Ah,
and you’re fighting the whole world.”

He
laughed. “Sometimes it feels that way.”

-Guy-

An
Evening at the Lake

That
night, after a light dinner, I asked Keira if she’d like to go for a
walk. This had been, by far, the most relaxing holiday I’d ever been
on. Along the way, I paused to grab the blanket from the porch
railing. Then we strolled along a path toward the lake. I reached
for Keira’s hand and gently laced my fingers through hers.

The
path we followed wound through the woods and into a small glade. We
continued on. Pebbles crunched underfoot as we neared the lake and
found a large flat stone upon which to sit. Keira helped me spread
the blanket on the ground. Then we sat and listened to the wind blow
through the pine trees. We watched as black and white geese flew in
a low V and settled onto the surface of the water. Keira leaned
against me, and I rested my arm around her shoulders.

“They’re
beautiful! It’s all so beautiful. I had no idea being away from the
city would be like this. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Shhh…”
I whispered. “Just enjoy it.”

I
pointed to the orange tinted sky. As the sun settled over the water,
and the noise from the geese subsided, stars appeared and new noises
began.

“What
is that?” She sounded surprised and curious, not fearful.

“Those
are frogs. It’s their mating season.”

“Oh,
really? Are you trying to tell me something?” she teased.

“Only
that those are frogs, and it’s their mating season,” I replied
seriously.

“They
don’t sound like frogs.”

“Not
all frogs say, ‘Ribbit.’ Those are grey tree frogs.”

“I
like their call. How do you know so much anyway?”

“Education,
experience and curiosity.”

“Does
it bother you that I have less education and very different
experiences than you?”

“No,
does it bother you?” I’d been learning a lot about Terene
lately, precisely because of our differences.

“A
little, I guess. Yes. April and I were talking about this recently.
I told her I think it’s wrong that some children have so little
while others are given so much. She seems to think it’s just the way
of the world and that we have little to no control over our lives.”

“April?”

“Yes,
my sister, April. I’d like you to meet her when we get back.”

“You’ve
mentioned her before. Is she anything like you?”

“No,
not at all! We don’t even look alike. Scott and I have Dad’s
darker coloring, and April looks more like Mom. Her hair is long and
straight and the color of honey, the color of mine right now. She’s
every bit the youngest. Scott and I were able to protect her from a
lot, so she’s usually more optimistic than me and more naïve.”

A
grain of concern began to sprout in my mind. “What does she
do?”

“She’s
a maid at the Beckett estate. When I first met you, I used some of
her information to try to reel you in.”

I
stared at the lake for a long time after that. What were the
chances? I still had my arm draped over Keira’s shoulders.
She tilted her head back and kissed me gently on the cheek, but I
didn’t respond, couldn’t respond, not how she was expecting me to.

“Keira,
there’s something I have to tell you.”

She
pulled away. “That doesn’t sound good.”

I
turned to look at her in the ever deepening night. “You don’t
want secrets, right?”

“Right.”

“I
should have told you earlier, but I didn’t realize the connection
until just now. It’s about my latest job for the Resistance.”

“Guy,
what is it?”

“I’ve
met April, and she’s not as naïve as you think. None of the
female servants at the Beckett estate are.”

Keira
held still and waited for me to continue.

I
sighed. “I’ve been working there for the past three weeks.”

“You’re
the new groundskeeper?”

I
nodded. April must have told her.

“Ashton?”

“Yes.
Now that Oren is dead, I needed a new alias.”

“April
told me about you. Has anything happened between you two?”

“What?
No!”

“She
really likes you,” she explained. “Wait. What is going
on at the Beckett estate? What do you mean about April not being
naïve? Do you mean like what happened to the last nanny?”

“That’s
exactly what I mean.”

“No,
not April.”

“I’ve
seen what goes on there. I tried to convince her to leave, but…”

“We
need to go back! We need to get her out!” Keira’s eyes were
wild, and her voice panicked.

“Now?
Why don’t we wait until morning?”

“There’s
no time to lose!”

I
was speechless. What would the difference of a few hours make?