Tell No Tales

Part 3: Inkling

Her elbow dug into his ribs, making Martin wince.

“What?” he asked, sharply, rubbing at the sore spot as he turned to face his wife.

“You were zoning out again,” Christine countered. “I asked you a question, and all you said was ‘uh-huh’… What’s with you?”

“Nothing,” Martin said, a little too quickly.

Their room—one of the upper apartments of the servant’s quarters—was dark, with only a sliver of moonlight sneaking through a gap in the curtains. But even in the dim light, he could see Christine’s eyebrow shoot upwards. “Nothing, my ass. You’ve been quiet all evening.”

“I’m just tired,” Martin said weakly. “I’ve been on my feet all day. Chasing down Georgia, and then having to search the whole house…” he paused to release a breath. “It’s been a long day.”

She propped herself up on her deadly elbows. “And you didn’t do it alone, remember? I was there too. I’m tired too. But that doesn’t change anything…” 

“I’m sorry, you’re right,” he said. “What was your question?”

“I just asked if you had any other ideas of where she might have found it.”

“Found what?”

Christine threw her head back with an exasperated sigh. “The pills, Martin,” she said. “Where did she find the pills?” Georgia had been questioned once they found her, but she still refused to admit to anything.

There was a tightening of Martin’s stomach. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice faint. “We’ve checked everywhere.”

“Well, they didn’t materialize out of thin air,” Christine shot back. She was quiet for a moment as she fiddled with the ends of her hair… Something she did whenever she was worried, or deep in thought. “When they cleaned out your aunt’s room, after she died, what did they do with all the stuff? Just toss it out? Do you think she might’ve found it in the garbage? I mean, the bottle was pretty dirty.”

“She didn’t find it in the garbage,” Martin said. Then he started, like he was surprised to have spoken. “I-I mean… She couldn’t have.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, I saw them,” he said, thinking back on that day. After the wake, he had hired a group of men from town to come clean out Aunt Mildred’s room. “They took it all with them.” He rolled over, turning his back on his wife.

They lay silently for a moment, before Christine flopped back into the mattress. “Well, maybe it fell out…” she said, her voice soft. “Maybe they dropped it on their way out, and didn’t notice.”

“Maybe,” Martin murmured, but he knew that was unlikely.

Another moment of quiet passed between them, and Martin hoped that would be all. He burrowed his face into the pillow, trying to settle down for sleep… Even though he already knew that the itch at the back of his mind would not let him rest tonight.

Something warm and soft pressed against his back, and two arms wrapped around him, pulling him close. “I’m sorry, Martin,” Christine whispered in his ear. “I know I’ve been kind of… tyrannical today. I just got so freaked by the kids finding those pills.”

“It’s okay,” he mumbled back, taking one of her hands that was wrapped around his chest and giving it a squeeze. “I get it. It was a scary thing, and we’ve both been under a lot of stress lately…”

Christine nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder. “Exactly. We’ve spent so long with blade hovering over our heads that it’s weird to have it gone. But it is.” She gently kissed his shoulder… Then his collarbone, smattering kisses as she worked her way up to the exposed flesh of his neck. “We just need learn how to relax,” she mumbled into his skin.