All the World (17 page)

              “We aren’t going anywhere,” Lexie promised. “Go clean yourself up.”

              Flora wrapped her arms around herself and hunched her shoulders as she made her way to the bathroom mumbling about daffodils. Lexie watched her friend until she was out of sight, relief flooding through her veins. Eventually, Flora was going to be alright, and Lexie couldn’t wait to reunite her with Nickolas.

              “I don’t think letting her go alone is a good idea,” cautioned Pierre.

              “I don’t want to help her shower. Do you want to go in there? I’m sure that would be interesting to explain to Nickolas,” Lexie answered.

              Pierre shrugged in response, but his face remained strained with worry. “So, I’ve talked to three of Guillaume Garland’s secretaries, but not the man himself. I’ve been told that he will get back to me as soon as possible.”

              “You could be waiting for ages if the Garlands finds time as dispensable as people,” grumbled Lexie.

              “What?”

              Lexie nervously picked at her thumbnail. “Did you see the news report about the murders in town hall? I was there and had to watch Cesare crush Bella Leer’s skull in with a tape dispenser. I think he also killed Emily, his secretary, after I left. It was a massacre, Pierre! There was so much blood!”

              Pierre leaned forward, eyes intense. “The report said four people died.”

              For the second time that day, Lexie gave a detailed account of what had happened in town hall. Unlike Braedon, Pierre was not silent. He would gasp and interject small comments. Several times, Lexie wanted to tell him to shut up and let her speak. When she was finished, Pierre’s face was streaked with tears.

              “They weren’t good people, but they didn’t deserve to die!” he exclaimed. “This is my fault! If I wasn’t the descendant—”

              “Don’t do that!” Lexie retorted. “What Shakespeare characters were in town hall? I couldn’t figure them out.”

              Pierre rubbed his face, wiping away his tears. “Clearly, the MacDougals became the characters from
Macbeth
. Scarlet’s rambles and obsession with spots on her hands are clear references to the guilty conscience of Lady Macbeth, and James’s murder of Mayor Leer can be linked to Macbeth killing Duncan.”

              “MacDougal is also a Scottish name,” added Lexie. “Flora said
Macbeth
is often called the Scottish Play because some people think it is cursed.”
It seems like Shakespeare created many curses.

              “Yes, yes,” Pierre muttered. “The Leer sisters took on the personas of Goneril and Regan from
King Lear
. They lusted after power and took advantage of their father. I never really knew Dahlia, but it seems Bella and Donna were ruthless even before the curse. How could they kill their own sister?”

              Lexie shook her head. “Bella was a monster in town hall! She didn’t care who she killed! I’m lucky to be alive!”

              “Cesare was more of a danger to
you
than anyone else in that office.”

              Lexie remembered Cesare’s fingers tightening around her throat. “Who did Cesare become? He said something about not answering to anyone, and he said I was going to betray him to his dad. How is he cursed? He doesn’t live in Vernon Hills. Does the curse affect people who own land here?”

              “I think Cesare is cursed because he physically removed the key from Vernon Hills,” Pierre said slowly. “He unleashed the curse.”

              “That makes sense, but what character is he?”

              “Iago.”

              “Flora never really talked much about a character named Iago. Tell me about him.”

              Pierre rubbed his hands together and grimaced. “Iago is one of Shakespeare’s most heinous and hated villains. He comes from the play
Othello
, and his subtle actions result in the psychological decay and death of the protagonist and his wife. Iago is a nasty piece of work who has the ability to manipulate others.”

              Lexie gave a sarcastic laugh. “That sounds like Cesare.”

              “You think he killed Emily. I assume she, ignorant of his true motives, helped Cesare gather information on the Leers and MacDougals just like Emilia gave Desdemona’s handkerchief to Iago.”

              Lexie wasn’t very knowledgeable about
Othello
, but she didn’t want a full synopsis of the play. All she needed to know was what type of person Cesare had become. From Pierre’s description, it seemed that Cesare really hadn’t changed that much at all. He had always been manipulative.

              “Is he a danger to anyone else?”

              “The people who took on the personas of Othello, Desdemona, and Roderigo might be,” Pierre tapped his fingers together. “It sounds like Cesare considers his father Othello, but I don’t think Mr. Garland is cursed.”

              Lexie chewed at her lip thoughtfully. “So, Mrs. Garland would be Desdemona.”

              “Yes, and Roderigo could be anyone from a jealous, high-ranking employee at Garland Corporation to a family ‘friend’ lusting after Mrs. Garland,” Pierre explained. “I don’t know what will happen since Cesare is the only one in his family cursed.”

              “Could other people become Desdemona and Roderigo?”

              “I suppose so, but Cesare is directing all his jealousy and anger at his father. How many people does he really know in Vernon Hills? I don’t think his secretary lived here, but she was still killed,” mused Pierre. “Maybe she wasn’t even cursed. The curse is more complex than I thought.”

              Lexie sighed. “I really don’t know how much more of this I can take. I had to check my best friend into a psych ward, and I was in a car crash afterwards. I started a fire in a church to save two teenagers. Then I witnessed a massacre in town hall. A few hours ago, I watched as my boss tried to kill my best friend’s boyfriend.
I
might go crazy!”

              “I am very sorry for all that you have gone through,” apologized Pierre, “but I’m so grateful for your help. There has been much calamity, but we have also prevented tragedy. Without you, many more people would have suffered.”

              Lexie was about to respond to Pierre’s touching speech when her phone started ringing. She grabbed it from the coffee table and answered it without checking the identity of the caller.

              “Hello?”

              “Lexie, this is Braedon.”

              “Hey,” Lexie felt her muscles relax, “how are things at the hospital? Pierre got Flora out of the psych ward. She’s at the apartment right now.”

              “That’s great news. I’ll make sure to tell Nickolas when I go to the police station.” Braedon’s voice turned grave. “Unfortunately, things aren’t going well here. The doctors can’t find an antidote for whatever Dr. Lindegaard gave Audrey.”

              Lexie pressed her fingers to her forehead. “That’s terrible! I am so sorry!”

              “They are still trying to save her, but she’s getting worse. I spoke to one doctor, and he said she only has a few hours left. I’m going to talk to the police and see if they will let Nickolas come see her. I think they will since he is pleading self-defense.”

              “You are so, so kind,” Lexie said. “Is there anything I can do?”

              “Just let Flora know what’s happening. I don’t want her to come back to the hospital. Nickolas will probably have to go to the police station again after he sees his mom. I’ll give you a call when we leave. You and Flora can meet us at the station.”

             
That’s not really the best place for a reunion, but our options are limited.
Lexie pictured Nickolas and Flora holding hands and pressing their lips together through the bars of a jail cell. “I think seeing Nickolas will lift Flora’s spirits.”

              “How are you doing?” asked Braedon. “Did you get any rest?”

              Lexie allowed herself a small smile. “Yes. I fell asleep while I was trying to call Pierre. I probably would have slept longer if he hadn’t come to the apartment.”

              Relief flooded Braedon’s voice. “I’m glad; you needed sleep. Have you decided what to do about Cesare and town hall?”

              “Not yet. Pierre and I are trying to work things out,” answered Lexie.

              “Things about Shakespeare’s curse?”

              “You believe me?” Lexie nearly dropped her phone, causing Pierre to raise his eyebrows and stare at her.

              Braedon paused. “Well, I think something is going on in Vernon Hills, but I don’t know what to believe anymore. I saw the ghost of Aleksandar Lindegaard, and that convinced me that there are more things in heaven and earth than I have ever dreamed!”

              “Then believe
me
! I wouldn’t lie to you, Braedon!” begged Lexie. “I don’t know how much longer Pierre and I can do this alone!”

              “Maybe—” Braedon stopped speaking. “I have to go. The doctors are coming. I’ll talk to you soon. Take care of Flora.”

              “I assume there’s trouble at the hospital,” mumbled Pierre as Lexie lowered her phone.

              “The doctors haven’t found an antidote, but they’re still trying. Braedon said that he’ll text me when he goes to the police station. He suggested that we bring Flora down to visit Nickolas. I think it’ll be good for both of them to see each other.”

              “Yes,” agreed Pierre, “it will if Nickolas doesn’t start ranting about how women are filled with dishonesty and fragility.”

              “Well, if he starts saying crap like that,” Lexie grumbled, “we can just leave. He should be reminded that Flora’s picture was what calmed him when he was fighting with his mom. Maybe Nickolas can stop Flora from singing about flowers.”

              A clatter from the bathroom startled Lexie and Pierre. They glanced briefly at one another before springing to their feet. Lexie made it to the bathroom door before Pierre. She knocked loudly, but Flora did not respond. She put her hand on the doorknob, surprised to find that it was unlocked. Without a second thought, Lexie threw open the door and rushed inside. The sight that greeted her caused her to jerk to an abrupt halt.

              Flora, still wearing her undergarments, was reclined motionless in the bathtub. The faucet was still on, and water was spilling over the sides of the tub and flooding the bathroom. A pair of fingernail clippers covered in red smears was tossed on the floor. Bottles of shampoo and conditioner had been knocked off the edge of the bathtub, and their creamy contents were splattered over the floor, wall, and toilet.

              “Flora!” shrieked Lexie “Flora!”

              She rushed to the bathtub and gave a stifled shout. Blood was oozing from deep slits in Flora’s wrists, turning the water crimson. The pink droplets on Flora’s skins looked like the cheap paint children used for watercolor sketches.

              Pierre reached around Lexie, and pulled Flora out of the tub. He carefully placed her on the floor, and grabbed her wrists tightly. “Call 911!”

              Lexie started to back out of the bathroom quickly, but she slipped on the concoction of water, blood, and shampoo. Lexie slid into the hallway, stumbled to her feet, and ran to the living room. She snatched her phone off the sofa and punched in the three numbers. Lexie, hand trembling, pressed the phone against her ear.

Chapter Fifteen: Man is a Nasty Piece of Work

              “Flora! No!”

              Lexie’s eyes flew open as she shoved herself off the sofa, landing on the coffee table. A cup of tea fell over and the lukewarm liquid seeping into her jeans. The living room was empty and silent apart from Lexie’s ragged breathing and the soft sound of a vibrating phone.

             
It was a nightmare!
Lexie let out a breathy chuckle before climbing back onto the sofa, clutching her phone against her cheek.
It felt so real! I’ll never be able to sleep until the curse is lifted.

              She took a few steadying breaths before answering. “Hello?”

              “Lexie, where have you been?” Pierre’s voice was loud. “I’ve been calling for an hour!”

              “I fell asleep after Braedon dropped me off at my apartment,” she explained. “You need to listen to the nightmare I just had! I think I know why Cesare transformed.”

              “Okay, tell me.”

              She went on to describe the vivid nightmare, lingering on the parts where she and Pierre discussed Cesare being the incarnation of Iago from
Othello
. Lexie briefly touched on the phone call she had with Braedon about taking Flora down to the police station. Talking about the end of the nightmare was difficult. Lexie didn’t want to describe what it was like to see her best friend bleeding out in their bathtub. Unfortunately, the moments in the bathroom were the most distinct. She could even remember the winding path the shampoo took as it mixed with the bloody water on the floor.

              Lexie shuddered. “I don’t want to talk about that part. She died in the bathtub. I think that’s all you need to hear.”

              “Yes, and I agree that Cesare is Iago.”

              Pierre and Lexie were quiet. It was as though they were giving Flora a moment of silence.

              Pierre cleared his throat. “Well, your dream was unnervingly accurate. I—”

              Lexie pulled at her hair and shrieked, “Was it a vision? Is it really going to happen?”

“No! It was just a nightmare! I did speak with one of Mr. Garland’s secretaries. She told me he had returned from his trip in England. Mr. Garland won’t be in his office for the next few days. I told her it was an emergency.”

              “Maybe he’ll meet with Cesare and realize that Shakespeare’s curse is real,” suggested Lexie. “He’ll have to talk to you then.”

              “Speaking of Cesare, did he really kill Bella Leer and his secretary? I saw the story about town hall.”

              Lexie twiddled with a strand of hair that had escape from her ponytail. “Yeah, and I think he’s going to get away with it. There’s no way Mayor MacDougal is going to contradict his story unless he wants to admit that he’s a murderer too.”

              “
You
know what happened. Tell the police.”

              “Cesare told me that the police will take his side,” Lexie said dejectedly. “He has more influence than me. Cesare threatened to tell them that my friends and I planned everything after the theatre was torn down. I don’t have any proof that he killed anyone!”

              Pierre clucked his tongue as he thought. “Actually, it might work in your favor to talk to the police. You can tell them what happened with the Leer and MacDougal families. When the police talk to Mayor MacDougal again, they can bring up the death of Mayor Leer. If there’s even the slightest shade of guilt in him, the mayor will tell the truth.”

              “He didn’t see Cesare kill Bella.”

              “But you did,” insisted Pierre, “and, with two people giving information, the police will have to reevaluate the story given to them by Cesare. He needs to understand that he isn’t above the law. Cesare needs to be properly punished.”

              “I know he does,” Lexie said, fighting to keep her voice from coming out like a whine, “but I’m scared of what will happen to our friends. He’s powerful, rich, and an expert at blackmail. I wouldn’t put it by him to have Mayor MacDougal killed!”

              “Tell the police that too. Cesare knows he’s scared you, and he doesn’t expect you to go to the police,” Pierre told her.

              “So, he’ll be caught off guard when the police come asking questions…” Lexie mused. “What do you think about telling his father everything?”

              “We’ll have to get in touch with him first. I don’t think we should tell Mr. Garland about town hall immediately, though it would make good leverage. I doubt he’ll want to admit that his son is a murderer.”

              “They have a pretty screwed up relationship.”

              “Would he really want Cesare in prison?”

              “I don’t think so,” Lexie admitted. “I guess I’m still thinking about Nickolas and Dr. Lindegaard. But Mr. Garland will worry about what this mess will do to Garland Corporation’s image.”

              “I think Cesare has already done plenty to tarnish the company’s reputation,” replied Pierre. “Listen, talking to the police is the only way to get Cesare convicted of murder.”

              “Okay. I’ll talk to them when I go down to see Nickolas,” Lexie agreed. “I guess he’s still there.”

              “Yes, he is. I called Nickolas when you wouldn’t answer your phone, but Braedon picked up.”

              “The police took Braedon’s phone since he recorded what happened between Nickolas and Dr. Lindegaard. Nickolas left his phone inside. Braedon took it with him to the hospital,” Lexie explained.

              “He was at the police station when I spoke to him.”

              Lexie rubbed her eyes like a tired toddler. “Did he say how Mrs. Lindegaard is doing?”

              “She’s no better,” answered Pierre. “I fear she’ll be the next death. There is nothing we can do to help her. The doctors are the only ones who can save her, and Braedon said they are doing everything they can.”

              “You know, I couldn’t really tell who she was trying to protect before she was poisoned. The times that I saw her and Nickolas talk she always defended Phillip, but she continuously told Nickolas she wanted to help him.”

              “I believe she loves both men,” Pierre said, “and really doesn’t want to choose between them. I can’t imagine what that must be like. Well, I’m heading to the police station.”

              “Okay. See you there.”

              Lexie pinched the bridge of her nose as she hung up. Her nightmare was still fresh in her mind, and she hoped that getting out of the apartment would help her push it away. There would be so much more to focus on at the police station.

              Her stomach churned. She knew her actions at the station could cause trouble. If Cesare found out what she was doing, he would be livid. He hadn’t killed her last time, and Lexie was still confused why he had not. However, she was positive that he would not hesitate to murder her this time.

              The silence of the apartment was starting to make Lexie tired. She had learned to hate silence since the start of the curse. Silence meant she could fall back asleep and have another nightmare. Silence meant that someone else had died. She didn’t know what she would do if another person died. It wouldn’t be her fault, but deep down she would never forgive herself.

             
You’re stronger than you think. Look at everything you have been through already. Be strong and help your friends.

             
Lexie stood up, brushed her fingers through her hair to fix her ponytail, and headed to door. She was going to have to walk since she had no car. It wouldn’t take long since the police station was only a few blocks down from her apartment. Fortunately, the sun was still shining. Without looking in a mirror, Lexie left the apartment.

             
I wonder if the Terraces and Roses figured everything out.
The families had left the café, but their dirty dishes were still sitting on the tables. Lexie hoped that the elopement of their children had made them realize that their feud had caused enough pain and suffering.

Lexie thought that a union of the two families would put an end to all the fighting. Giulia had been right when she had said that the old feud had nothing to do with her relationship with Theodore. Maybe now her parents would see it.

              Lexie caught sight of several people walking along Avon Road when she stepped out of the café. They all were heading in the direction of town hall, and she imagined they were going to stand around and watch the police work. The police couldn’t even figure out what really happened, so the spectators wouldn’t learn anything from standing around on Avon Road and Duffson Lane.

             
They’re still cursed, so I’d rather have them standing around than killing each other. Looking at town hall is harmless enough.

              The Vernon Hills police station was located two blocks down from town hall on Avon Road. Lexie paused outside the brick building to peer over at town hall. Yellow caution tape surrounded the entrance, and police cars were parked in the street, cutting off the entrance to Duffson Lane. One police man was standing in the road, and Lexie imagined he was checking driver’s licenses.

             
They shut everything down quickly!

Lexie was impressed at their response time. Even cursed, the police certainly could still do their job well. She shivered, shook her head, and walked to the front door of the police station.

              “I can’t imagine what the inside of the building looks like.”

              Pierre’s somber voice caused Lexie to turn around. She saw the man hurrying from the parking lot. He was so fixated on town hall that he walked into a police car. Had the situation not been so serious, Lexie would have laughed and made a joke. Instead, she calmly waiting for him to regain his balance and make it to the door.

              Lexie pressed her lips together. “You don’t want to know. It’s really bad.”

              Pierre patted her shoulder. “Hopefully, everything will be taken care of soon enough. Let’s talk to Nickolas, so don’t think on what you saw just yet. It is time to finish Vernon Hills’ version of
Hamlet
.”

              “Yes, it is,” mumbled Lexie.

              The station was cold, and the overhead fans sent shadows swooping across the floor and walls like giant birds. The lobby was surprisingly quiet considering all that had taken place down the street. No one was waiting there, and Lexie wondered where Braedon had gone.

              “I thought you said Braedon was here.”

              “He told me he was at the police station,” Pierre replied. “Maybe he’s being questioned about Nickolas and Dr. Lindegaard.”

              “Wouldn’t the police want to talk to me too? I saw everything that happened,” Lexie questioned. “I mean, I’m glad they don’t want to interview me since I have to tell them about town hall—”

              “Shh! Not yet!” hissed Pierre.

              Lexie rolled her eyes. “I want to get it over with!”

              “Let’s find Braedon.”

              They walked over to a weary deputy standing at the window where guests signed in. He had his elbow leaning against the granite countertop and his fist pressed against his cheek. He yawned as his eyes fluttered open and shut. Pierre had to knock on the window to get his attention.

              “Oh, sorry!” the man choked out, his voice hoarse from lack of sleep. “How can I help you?”

              “We’re here to see Nickolas Lindegaard,” Pierre said politely. “I think Braedon Horaz might be here already.”

              “I need to see your driver’s licenses.” The deputy reached out under the window, gesturing for Pierre and Lexie to place their IDs in his hand. “What is your business with Nickolas Lindegaard?”

              Lexie took control of the conversation. “My name is Lexie Stanley. I witnessed the altercation between Dr. Phillip Lindegaard and Nickolas Lindegaard. The police said they might contact me for an interview. I also need to speak with someone about another matter.”

              He tapped away on his computer, rubbing his eyes and struggling to stifle yawns. “There is already a witness in the case with incriminating evidence. It doesn’t appear that a second witness is necessary at the moment. What is the other matter you need to discuss?”

              “Lexie! Pierre!” Braedon called their names from the far side of the lobby. “I’m over here!”

              “Can I go see my friends, please?” Lexie put on her best puppy dog eyes. “Please? Seeing them will help me with what I have to tell you. Please?”

              The deputy was so tired that he didn’t bother to argue. He gave Lexie back her driver’s license. Braedon waited for Pierre and Lexie next to a water fountain and pair of benches. Pierre and Braedon shook hands before all three of them moved farther into the alcove, hiding them from the rest of the lobby.

              Lexie went immediately to Braedon. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Are you alright? I’m sorry you had to tell them everything on your own.”