❝If there was one thing Anthony Lockwood was afraid of, it would be Carolynne Blair Lynch's pure, mere, terrifying beauty.❞
𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭? Perhaps a day that didn't go your way so now you'd...
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𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 George greeted them in the kitchen with dinner being dished up. "How did it go?" He asked as he joined them at the table.
"It went alright, it was the woman Caroline causing the disturbances," Carolynne smiled.
Lockwood reached into his pocket and placed the iron box on the table next to George, "her source was this turtle dove brooch. Carolynne found it under the floorboards."
"Did you feel anything," he asked looking towards her.
"A lot of jealousy. When I touched it I saw a woman holding it infront of a man, she was crying."
"Maybe he bought it for someone else?" He presumed, putting his fork into the pasta again. "Could suggest the jealousy."
Carolynne nodded, "I was thinking that."
George looked down at his pasta again and Carolynne sent a side glance to Lockwood but he was already looking at her. Carolynne felt her cheeks flush as she looked back down with a smile - she heard him chuckle gently.
After they finished, Lockwood said he'd wash up so the other two returned to their rooms. But before she did Carolynne picked up the Source from the table and turned to Lockwood by the sink. "Have you got the keys to the storeroom on you?"
"Oh!" Lockwood wipes his hands on the towel before gesturing for her to follow him. "I meant to give you your own set of keys, but with the case I completely forgot."
Carolynne followed him upstairs to his room where she stood awkwardly in the doorway whilst he walked over to his desk. Lockwood's room was nice. It was cluttered but an organised cluttered just like the rest of the house. Carolynne liked clutter - it had stories and proved that it was well lived in.
It held a double bed with cream sheets, colored cushions and twin bedsides; shelves of trinkets and books; a desk with scattered papers of blue prints and pens; there was a tall vase with fake plants in the corner; the walls were decorated with photo frames and in his bedsides sat lamps and two photographs - one being completely empty and the other a family of four.
"Here," Lockwood handed her a ring of keys, "you can connect it to your belt."
She took it from him with a smile, "thank you, Anthony."
"That opens the front door, that's one's the basement - George likes to lock it sometimes - and that's the storeroom." He pointed to each key and looked up at her after each.
The girl nodded, "I think I've got it."
"When in doubt, just try them all. One of them will eventually work."
"Got it," she laughed.
Carolynne turned for the stairs and heard Lockwood follow her. When they reached the kitchen, he returned to the sink and she disappeared to the basement.
