Trust Me II, page 38
“Don’t think of them as Americans,” Sandra answered quickly. “Just think of them as polite, well-mannered individuals who like to keep their noses out of other people’s affairs.” Creighton cleared his throat to keep from laughing and Johnston took a step back as if he’d been struck.
“Oye there girly,” he said a moment later. “I meant no harm. Just Americans usually don’t come here to the countryside.”
“Perhaps more would if they were greeted with less discrimination and few kind words,” she snapped, pulling her hand out of Creighton’s grip before turning to walk toward the house again, leaving the two men to stare after her.
Sandra slammed her way into the house and leaned against the door. She couldn’t believe she had just said that; she wasn’t used to being rude especially to the man she insisted her husband be nice to. She drew a deep breath to steady her nerves as the door pushed open and Creighton stepped through, nudging her away from the wooden barrier.
“Well, Miss Be Nice that was a bit unexpected.”
“I am so sorry; I don’t know what came over me.”
“Whatever it is, could you give me a bit of it? You left me to explain to the old bugger, that you were just exhausted from our trip. I don’t think anyone has ever put him in his place before. The look on his face…”
“Stop!” she shouted, covering her ears with his hands. “It was rude and I had no right to say anything like that. I don’t know what’s coming over me lately. It’s like I’m developing a Jekyll and Hyde personality.” Creighton laughed as he pulled her into his embrace and kissed her cheek.
“I’m sure it’s only temporary, but I love it just the same. You are changing and I’m delighted with the new you; brave, intoxicating, daring and a bit bitchy. What else could a man ask for?”
Sandra couldn’t help but smile, and then returned his hug briefly before taking his hand again and following him through the house to inspect the work. When they finished an hour later, she felt calmer and much more like her old self. She just hoped they didn’t run into Johnston on their way out.
“Do you think they’ll like it?” Creighton asked as they drove the short distance to their own home.
“It’s so much like their old home in Kansas; I think they’ll love it. And it’s the perfect size; enough room for a garden, a few animals and grandkids. I know Nana will be thrilled with that kitchen, it’s a dream.”
“That was a complete remodel,” he smiled. “The old kitchen was really out of date and very much in need of an overhaul. With the new appliances, floor and the added square feet, she should be able to make as many cookies and breads as her heart desires.”
“And I’m sure she will.” Sandra watched as he pulled into the driveway that lead to their home and shut off the engine of the car near the front porch. The garage was up and complete with three bays for cars and a flat above. It was brick to match the house and the windows were the same as the ones in the main house. There was a balcony on the upper floor and Creighton waved as Harvey and Parker stepped out onto it, waving back. Sandra walked with her husband up the steps to the house and smiled as he lifted her in his arms, carrying her across the threshold. He sat her on her feet in the large foyer, kissing her lips briefly before turning her toward the newly remodeled interior.
The house was immaculate, completely refurbished from top to bottom with the most exquisite details. The crown molding that decorated each room was very ornate in design and varnished to bring out the rich dark wood. The stairs were wide and new and the house smelled of fresh paint and varnish. It was better than any of the drawings she had seen when Maxine sent the final plans for their approval.
Just like his parents’ house, the sitting room was off the main entrance with a large fireplace and windows that looked out onto the world. They walked through the room and sat on the sofa that faced the fireplace, holding hands and smiling as they looked at the familiar decorations they had purchased in France. Above the fireplace was a large portrait of the two of them on their wedding day, standing on the steps of the church; the same one that was on her new iPad.
“I figured we may as well start our own family portraits,” he said with a smile.
“Chang does such wonderful work. So long as you don’t have any other pictures hanging where people can see them, I’m okay with you displaying our portraits.”
“Those pictures are for our private observation only. I do have a few of the more…intriguing portraits up in our room, but the really intimate ones are in an album out of sight.”
“So, now can we move in?” she asked with a wry smile.
“Yes. Now we can move in. I would have allowed it earlier but I was enjoying our time at the flat so much, I wasn’t willing to let you go; besides I have another surprise for you.”
“No more surprises!” she snapped, with a little less conviction than she had intended.
“This is one you’ll like without an argument. Come with me.” Creighton took her by the hand and walked her into the dining room across the hall and paused by the entrance so she could absorb the details.
There was a long formal table of mahogany wood and twelve chairs; a gift from his uncle, the same one that once belonged to his maternal grandmother. The floor was the original hardwood, but had been sanded and varnished to a high reflective luster. On the wall to their right was the most elegant fireplace she had ever seen with a large mirror in the center above the hearth and the sides and top carved with small cherubs. Shelves accented the mantle and held an old antique teapot, several figurines and a music box. Across from the entry hung a large piece of yellow fabric that hid the entire wall from sight. Sandra frowned and watched as Creighton walk over to it, pulling the cloth down.
Sandra’s breath caught in her throat, her heart skipped a beat and tears began to fill her green eyes. The wall held her great-grandmother’s china hutch; the same one she had played with when she was younger; the same one her grandfather stated he was not taking out of the house.
There were many different sized wooden shelves covered by etched glass doors. Behind the glass held their many formal china sets and wine goblets given to them for their wedding. There was a buffet beneath the shelves where several milk glass serving dishes that resembled her mother’s had been set out for display and the cupboards beneath were closed off by shadowbox style doors. She walked over to the shelves, brushing the tears away from her cheeks as she touched the nicks that marked the heights of the many generations of children. She turned to see the love twinkling in her husband’s eyes.
“You were really upset when your grandfather said they weren’t taking this with them to Florida that I arranged to have it removed and flown here. The entire thing was labeled, piece by piece and Matthew had it installed as soon as it arrived.”
“I can’t believe you did this,” she said in a soft tone, the emotion echoing in her voice. “I love this hutch. I used to play with my Barbie dolls on it when I was little. Nana would let me use the dishes to set up a whole house for them. I’d use the gravy boat as a bathtub and I’d turn saucers upside down and use them as the bed. It was so much fun.” Creighton stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
“So now you can teach our daughters to play on it.”
“Thank you so much. What did my grandparents say about it?”
“Nana was quite delighted that it wasn’t going to be left behind and Papa still argues that it’s a waste of space.”
“What about you? How do you feel about it?” Creighton smiled as he nuzzled her neck.
“I think every old home should have a display case and it’s perfect for this space. It’s roughly the same age and fits quite nicely here. It was the exact size for the wall, Matthew didn’t have to cut it down or add it at all.”
“Amazing,” she smiled. “It’s like it was meant to be here.”
“Just like you, my American queen. Care to see the rest of the house?” Sandra smiled and turned around seeing the twinkle in his dark eyes.
“Lead the way sir,” she said.
Next to the bedroom, the kitchen was probably her favorite room. It had all new eco-friendly energy saving appliances in white enamel rather than the very popular stainless steel. The sink was an old country style single basin but had the modern amenities of disposal, hot water spicket for drinks and a touch sensitive faucet. There was a dishwasher that looked like the cabinet drawers and a refrigerator with the freezer and a cooling drawer below. A microwave sat above the stove top and there was a double oven in the wall next to the counters. The room was painted in her favorite yellow and orange colors and the floor was white tile.
A table sat at the opposite side of the room with eight chairs and the pantry was twice the size of their neighbor’s. There was an attached laundry room with state of art appliances, also energy saving with a sorting table and built-in cabinets to hide all the cleaners. The kitchen was lined with so many cupboards and drawers Sandra didn’t think she would ever find enough things to stick in them. Fortunately for her, Maxine had already unpacked their many wedding presents and stowed them in logical places among the cabinets; all they had to do was locate them.
“So, as you’ve noticed there is no food,” Creighton said. “I thought we could go shopping together. I’m not sure what all you like besides pasta and that will be limited from now on.”
“Shall we make a grocery list and do the domesticated thing and go load up on junk food instead?”
“Not at all,” he smiled. “Only healthy food will be allowed in this kitchen until the garden is ready. You know, all the necessities like meat, cheese, eggs, ice cream, donuts, crisps; that sort of thing.”
“Sounds very healthy,” she smiled in reply.
“Mum and Kristen are making supper tonight, now that Kristen is able to move around again. I guess having a caesarian section is harder than I thought, but she’s ready to get back into the game of being a mother and neighbor. They want to bring everything here so we can celebrate our new house as a whole family. Would you mind?”
“I think that sounds wonderful; supper in our new home for the first time with family and friends, just like an old married couple.”
“Let’s get our bags from the car and get unpacked,” he chuckled. “Bess and her husband will bring the rest of our luggage over in the morning. It will give Peter a chance to see Irena and I want to talk to Bess about the flat.”
“What about it?”
“I want her to continue taking care of it, but I won’t be using it as much as I always have. I plan on working out of this house from now on.”
“But you aren’t getting rid of it, are you?”
“No, I thought it would be the perfect place to stay when we go into town for an opera or the theater. Plus maybe Sabrina would like to take over the place while I’m not there. It will provide a more convenient place for while she’s working.”
“You are a very kind sir, Mr. Ashford and a wonderful brother.” Sandra teased as she walked out of the kitchen with him and headed to the car to gather their bags.
“I just want everything to be good for those I love.”
“So you do,” she smiled.
Supper was a delightful display of food, children and laughter; exactly as Sandra liked it. Creighton’s family arrived barely ten minutes after they returned from shopping and helped bring in the groceries while Sandra held Justin, Derek’s newest addition to the family. He was a beautiful baby and unlike his siblings, he had the Ashford’s dark hair. Irena had bowed out of the evening’s festivities for a sleepover with her best friend Amelia Hardy, so the noise and excitement was much less chaotic.
The dinner was served in the dining room while everyone admired the old china hutch. The children were set up at a small table near the adults and the mood was light and cheerful, even Harvey and Parker had come into the main house to share the meal of roast lamb, garden vegetables and salad, followed by fresh peach cobbler. Andrew arrived just as the food was being set on the table, followed shortly afterward by Sabrina who was very animated about her first day at work with her brother’s new textile firm. She had designed a number of uniforms and had managed to convince two private girls’ schools into trying them out for the next year. Things were looking up for her and she was excited about all of it.
“I have some news, but I’m not sure if this is a good time to bring it up or not,” Andrew said a little while later as they all sat down in the sitting room to share coffee and dessert.
“About Bachmeier?” Creighton asked, watching the children through the window, playing in the front yard.
“We don’t know what happened, but he was in route back to London when the van carrying him veered off the road. The French police are investigating, but by the time they arrived, the vehicle was in flames. Three bodies were recovered; two armed escorts and Bachmeier. They were so badly burned, an autopsy will have to be performed to determine their identities, but there’s no question about it.”
“Do you know what happened?” Sandra asked with a frown.
“All we know is that an eye witness stated they passed the van a few minutes before the crash and all seemed fine. Next thing anyone knows, the bloody thing was on fire.”
“So I suppose this closes the case on him,” Creighton said, but with no remorse in his tone whatsoever. “What about the bodies? Any more word on that side of the coin?”
“Forensics has determined that they were killed within eight to fifteen years ago,” Andrew continued, relieved that his brother was freely discussing the details in front of the family; especially the woman he had spent so long trying to protect.
“That means it couldn’t have been Miriam’s father,” Sandra said. “She said he returned to France for his sister-in-law’s funeral ten years ago and went back to Germany right afterward. He wasn’t in England eight years ago.”
“Not necessarily,” Andrew continued. “What Stone said was true; Lynette was pregnant and the DNA determined it was Bachmeier’s. He had the motive and the means and after what his daughter wrote in her book, he also had the skills to kill her.”
“Have you found out anything on the other four bodies?” Harvey asked from where he and Parker had been sitting next to the fireplace, listening in silence.
“Not yet, the only thing the coroner can say for certain is that they had been tortured before their deaths. He suspected they had been assaulted for days, perhaps a week and all were sexually molested.”
“What about the DNA you found on the one body?” Sabrina asked, joining the conversation. “Was that enough to say for certain it was the old man?”
“The tests are still running, but there is enough circumstantial evidence to indicate him as a serial killer. His military record shows he was very high in the KGB before he took his wife and left Germany. They left their families behind and came here. From what we’ve learned, he was wanted by his former employees for reasons they refuse to release. For many years, his family was under surveillance until the cold war ended and they no longer cared about him. He was also known by his comrades for his unique interrogation techniques. The evidence is there, we just have to put it all together and close the case.”
“Too bad he isn’t alive to answer for his crimes,” Creighton said, his fingers caressing the back of Sandra’s knuckles.
“At least this is all behind you,” William smiled. “Now maybe with the case closed you two can move forward.” Sandra stood up and paced her way to the window, looking out to the children playing with a soccer ball on the grass. There was a nagging sensation in the back of her mind and she couldn’t shake it. This was wrong; the theory behind the murders was sane enough and she was sure it would hold up in any court of law, but it was all wrong; she could feel it. In her heart she knew Miriam’s father was not guilty of killing anyone, but she didn’t know how to convince anyone of it.
“Darling, are you alright?” Creighton asked from the sofa where they had been sitting together. She drew a deep breath; it was no or never and she wasn’t feeling like keeping her mouth shut any longer.
“I don’t want you to close the case,” Sandra told Andrew as she turned from the window and looked back at the group staring at her.
“Why not?” Creighton asked with a frown.
“I can’t put my finger on it, but I just don’t think Miriam’s father killed those women.”
“She gave him the scenario to do it, in writing, remember?” Creighton insisted. “She admitted that he beat Lynette Stone and raped her when she passed out. How much more of a confession do you want?”
“He didn’t beat her, he played with her and I know of a lot of people who like to play the same way,” she said staring at the man as though to accuse him without admitting to their perverted love affair. “And he didn’t rape her. She wrote that he took her to bed and lay with her all night. That is not the act of a murderer.”
“Sandra,” Andrew interrupted. “What makes you think he’s not the killer?”
“I just have a bad feeling about it,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I can’t put my finger on it; maybe it’s Bachmeier’s ghost whispering in my ear, or maybe the women’s spirits are trying to seek justice, I don’t know. I just know it wasn’t him, I’m sure of it.”
“I can’t go to the courts and tell them I want the case to remain open based on a feeling.”
“Maybe it’s because of all the books and biographies I’ve read, but I know there is something missing. Please give it time? Just a few more days, I’m sure something will be found to point to the real killer.” Creighton growled softly under his breath as he looked up at her.
“Look,” she continued. “I’ve spent a lifetime learning to read the events around me. I know when someone is lying to me and I know when there is danger. Anyone who has lived through as many tornadoes as I have learns to sense a change in the air. This is no different. I know there’s something that’s being overlooked and if we rush through this, those women will never have peace.”
