A muscle jerked in his jaw as he walked out of the house.Once again, he glanced at his watch.There was something he needed to do before he went to the office.He didn’t know where his manners had gone.He should have thought of it before.
* * *
Casey tossed her pen down on the desk and swiveled her chair to face the window overlooking the business district of Ruban Crossing.As she did, a flash of white caught her eye and she stood abruptly, searching for a glimpse of the family’s white Lincoln.
Was that Ryder?She looked until her eyes began to burn and the muscles in the backs of her legs began to knot.Disgusted with herself, she turned away from the window to return to her chair.
The high gloss on her desk was obliterated by a mountain of paperwork to her left, which was only increments smaller than the mountain of paperwork to her right.She closed her eyes and tried to relax, playing her favorite what-if game.The one that went…what if she walked out of the office and never came back?In her mind, she was halfway out of town when her secretary, Nola Sue, buzzed.
“Mrs.Justice, you have a delivery.”
The mention of her name change alone was enough to yank Casey back to reality.
“Just sign for it.I’ll pick it up later.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs.Justice, but the man insists on your signature only.”
Casey sighed.“Then send him in.”
Moments later, the door opened and a uniformed messenger came into the room.Brief and to the point, he handed her a clipboard and a pen.
“Sign here, please.”
Casey did as she was told, casually eyeing the flat, oblong package the man laid on her desk.
“Good day, Mrs.Justice.”
And then he was gone.
My, how word does get around in this town, Casey thought, as she slipped a letter opener between the folds of paper.A glimmer of color began to emerge from beneath the plain, brown wrapping.The second layer of paper was a thick, pure white embossed with silver doves.An obvious allusion to the wedding that hardly was.Curious now, she abandoned the letter opener for her fingers and tore through that layer to a flat black box.
It was a little over a foot in length and no more than three or four inches in width.The lid was hinged by two delicate foil butterflies.Casey gasped at the contents as a card fell out and into her lap.
Inside lay a miniature rapier on thick, black velvet.She lifted it from the case, hefting it lightly.It felt heavy, even warm in her hand, and she knew before she turned it over to view the silversmith’s mark that it was probably solid silver.It was the most elaborate letter opener she’d ever seen.
Curious, she laid it aside and picked up the card, all the while wondering who would send her such a thing.She read, “Casey, On your nuptials: You deserve this… and so much more.Lash.”
She frowned at the oddity of the phrasing, then laid the card aside and picked the small rapier up again, eyeing the double-edged blade with caution.Something near the tip caught her eye.At first, she thought it was rust, and that the letter opener must not be silver after all, because silver did not rust.Even after she ran the tip of her finger across the spot, it didn’t come off.But when she lifted it for a closer look, she suddenly shifted in her seat, making room for the unexpected sense of foreboding that swept over her.
She swiveled her chair toward the window and full light, tilting the blade for a closer look still, then tested the spot with the tip of a fingernail.It came away on her nail.Startled, she grabbed for a tissue and wiped at her finger, unprepared for the small, red stain that suddenly appeared against stark white.
She couldn’t quit staring.The spot wasn’t rust, it was blood—dried blood.But in such a small amount that it might have gone unnoticed.
Now her delight in such a gift was replaced with dismay.It seemed a travesty of something pure to receive a wedding gift with blood on it.The urge to put it out of sight was strong.She laid it back in the box, closing the lid with care, but the words on the card had now taken on a sinister meaning.
You deserve this…and so much more.
Deserve what?What did she deserve?The silver… the knife…or the blood?
The phone rang.It was the private line that only family ever used.She grabbed for it like a lifeline.
“Hello.”
“Casey, darling, it’s Erica.Have you seen Grandmother?”
For once, she was almost thankful for the whine in her half sister’s voice.It gave her something else on which to focus besides Lash’s gift.
“No, I’m sorry, but I haven’t.”
