At His Beck and Call

Chapter7: Revelations

Leftover rain droplets fall from the trees canopied over my chauffeured car. Wind sweeps between the car and the trees, along the sidewalk where I stand. The cold air surrounds me; biting at my legs, pulling at my black dress and trench coat as if they are no more than detached leaves cascading in the wind. My heeled feet carry me past a newspaper stand and to a clear viewing point. The sun shines with a burning rage despite the storm that just passed.

I watch the large penthouse like apartment across the street, lowering my shades every once and again to catch a better glimpse of what's stirring inside. Though I love stakeouts, the reason behind this one is unsettling. Mike has been recording all the girls he's slept with and locking the footage in his closet. Jennie is one of those girls. I've hardly ever spoken to her, aside from courteous greetings, yet it's still my job to protect her. It's an obligation that I will not fall short on.

Though the storm has stopped, the weight of it still hangs on. The rain began once I left the Secret Maid's Club. I'd sent everyone away so that I could have time alone to think. As I walked the long hall to the exit memories of Rosalind began to fill my head. Cecelia Moore sought to find out what Rosalind was hiding... and did just so. Once she did, she began to hint to the Mayor's wife about the affair.

The wife soon figured it out, but -as to whom the other woman was- she had no clue. That's when the Mayor died. I figured it was poison, with Cecelia's journal; I am certain. His death prompted Rosalind to establish the Sisterhood of The Secret Maids, having acquired a hefty chunk of the Mayor's insurance. Rosalind had freedom and wealth, all at the price of her body, and provided herself with a crown to match. This angered Cecelia most of all. Soon after the Mayor's widow was informed of the woman who caused her pain.

Once Rosalind was disposed of, and the corrupt cops had covered up the murder, Cecelia was able to take Rosalind's place. She fringed heartache for a "lost friend" and made a speech that still lines the walls of the Secret Maids Club today. She stood behind the exact same podium Diamond now stands behind and spoke the dreaded words; "secrets are more dangerous left buried than exposed". They seem to always have a hidden meaning. But, in this instance, what does it mean?

I recall myself sighing in dismay. Those thoughts were forced out of my head in place of new, fresh ones. One's of the implications that Scarlett made about Zoey and her best friend, Jenniferia's dad, Conner. It was hard to digest- and even harder to want to believe. 

This type of drama must run in the family, I told myself. There is no reconciling Conner and Dawson after this.

A part of me wondered if that is how he's been getting back at Dawson and me.

At that point in time, I was nearing the exit of the Club. Pictures of past Hoodleaders line the walls, and the further down the line I walked, the more I was drawn to them. My steps halted near the portrait to the left of the exit. Rosalind's petite face and up-done hair seem to be dulled by the black and white picture. Yet, in contrast, the portrait is brightened by her smile. It would have been settling if the dark words that killed her weren't encased in the same frame.

Once I got into my car the storm began. The ride through the thicket was silent besides my thoughts. There was no peace until I entered the Graceffa house. Equanimity settled over me then, all thoughts evaded. All that remained was the persona reserved for the house- and for Zoe. I performed my duties as I waited for the girl to return from the Smith estate.

The turning lock alerted me to someone entering the house. For a second I was uncertain as to who it was; so many people from the past had been showing up I wouldn't have been surprised if it were Dawson's wife emerging from whatever hole she hides in for months on end. Perhaps that's something else I must look into. The sound of rain splashing on hardwoods echoed through the house as the door was opened. It closed with a hard shudder and whine. There, leaning against the door, I found Zoey soaked and sobbing. Her breathing was low and tortured as cries rumbled in her chest.