A Heart of Deception Part 5

Sorry, my fellow readers, that this portion has taken so long to publish on Hub Pages. My profession is taxing during the holidays! 

A Heart of Deception by Asher Kade

A Heart of Deception Part 1

 Holly Everten was lying lifeless on the cool cement that had befriended her for an indefinite amount of time. Blood pooled around her once deep, blond locks that were now a crusty russet hue...more

A Heart of Deception Part 2

 Holly and Darrell settled into Rex Fields, a dry, warm, southern town near Oklahoma and Louisiana border. It was their second home since getting married. more

A Heart of Dception Part 3

 Several years had passed by ever so quickly. Holly chased after Percy who was barking madly at the chickens. more...

A Heart of Deception Part 4

Holly drove the rental wooden station wagon to the local shop, aptly named Valerian Feed Store after all the bright red flowers growing in the area. more...

 

5Several days ebbed and flowed by. Holly went about to clean the garage that had sorely been ignored. One thing that Holly could always count on with Darrell was that he kept his tools tidy and well organized. The tool bench always seemed out of place with the rest of the riffraff of the garage.

 

           Holly smiled at the obsessive way Darrell kept his tools, but upon encroachment to the tool bench, she discovered that not all was in its orthodox manner of place. Indeed, Darrell's tools had been strewn about. A couple of drops of blood were splattered on the cement floor near the bench. Holly rationalized this as perhaps being an accident occurring when he was working on a clasp to the fence the other day. Upon further inspection, Holly undraped a hammer that had a shop towel lying vicariously on top of it. The hammer had some blood on it. Holly had a sick feeling welling up in her abdomen. The hammer also had grayish-tan tuffs of hair embedded in the crimson stains laden all over the end of it. Holly dropped the hammer and screamed. She recognized the hair. Though she could not find her voice, her lips formed the words “Percy.”

 

            Just then, the phone rang, jolting her from her frightening thoughts. Holly ran into the house, thinking it may be Darrell.

 

 

            “We need to talk. Meet me at Gerald’s Market,” said the woman. Her voice was disguised, and the statement was made so quickly that Holly couldn’t recognize who had called.

 

 

            Holly over-apprehensively entered Gerald’s Market. She was welcomed by the odiferous whiff of sandwiches baking in the forefront of the long, wooden bar, away from the patrons seated informally near the windows looking out into the town square. Though old wood paneling darkened the room, the white wispy curtains cascaded light through their penetrable weave. Laughter abounded between guests eating various delectable delights. A large fan hummed in the background giving the cooks much needed refreshment from the heat still lingering in the late September air.

 

            “I’m glad you came, Holly.” Blithe seemed to appear from nowhere.

 

 

            “Hi, what are you here for?” Holly’s face had confusion etched across it.

 

 

            “I wanted to talk to you.” Blithe seemed afflicted and a bit off. She tightened her shoulders and quickly rearranged her moldy-green colored wrap around her extremities. Holly thought it was strange to wear a wrap on such a tepid day.

 

 

            “Darrell, he ain’t right you know.” Blithe couldn’t seem to hold her gaze on Holly or much else as she spoke.

 

 

            “Okay, what do you mean?” Holly wanted to leave but Blithe grabbed her, revealing shortly the brutalized flesh on her arms. “What’s wrong Blithe…?” Holly tried to leave again.

 

 

            “Darrell…he never really loved me huh?” Blithe had a crazed glare in her eyes that became moistened with tears as she muttered inaudibly.

 

 

            “I don’t understand…” Holly had a bad feeling that what Blithe was going to say next would change her undisturbed life forever.

 

 

            “He was destined for me, he lied. I told him I was going to tell you, and he got worked-up.” Blithe’s disconnected thoughts were evident in her speech.

 

 

            “How was he destined for you?” Holly retorted, unsure if she really wanted to know.

 

 

            “He was going to marry me. He loved me. He knew me when we was kids, in high-school.” Blithe looked around like she couldn’t stay much longer.

 

           

            “I knew that Miles and Darrell knew each other in junior high, about to enter high-school…” Holly reflected.

 

 

            “Yea, but he knew me first, we sweethearts you know.” Blithe substantiated. “You aren’t what he wants; he is going back to me.” Blythe was being tenacious and thwarting at this point.

 

 

            “I’m sure you are confused, Blythe. He’s married to me, been so for a little over 10 years.” Holly persuaded Blithe to return to reality.

 

 

            “When you people got hitched, in 1982, it was me he asked for. I said I would think about that. Then you came along and got you that ring instead. I’m just saying because you may want to know why Darrell's not been telling you the truth.” At this point Holly couldn’t make sense at all what Blythe was rambling about. It was then that Holly caught a glimpse of Blithe’s arms more copiously. They were tattered and shredded by some sort of blunt object, crystallized blood splattered indiscreetly down her wrists. The very brief view was shielded once more by Blythe’s wrap.

 

 

            “What exactly is he not telling me the truth about?” Holly decided to entertain Blithe’s blithering chatter for just a moment.

 

 

            “School-he ain’t at Westford. He ain’t got no schoolin’ there.” Blythe acted as if she was fearful of being struck with her shaky body mannerism.

 

 

            “Where are you implying he is going to school?” Holly did not believe a word Blithe was saying.

 

 

            “Nowhere.” Blythe bit her lower lip. “He ain’t anywhere.”

 

 

            Blythe stood looking out the window for a moment. Holly seemed confused and unsure how to take this bit of news. Although she knew Blithe a little bit, she couldn’t ascertain if Blythe was telling the truth or not. What would be her motive if she were not being truthful?

 

 

           “And you may want to ask about the dog…” Holly could hear her stomach growl as Blythe uttered those words.

 

 

            “Stop it! Stop it Blythe!” Holly raised her voice. Blythe’s non-expressive face changed to a wicked elfish grin with a strange glare in her eyes.

 

 

            “I’ve said too much, maybe you got to go now.” Blythe abruptly clammed up.

 

 

            Holly had a couple of tears roll down her left cheek. As she departed from the warm redolence of honey buns and baked sandwich bread, Holly heard Blythe cackle softly in the distant background, “Ask about his dad, girl, ask about him, he’s a fibber!”

 

 

            The encounter with Blythe disturbed Holly for the rest of the day. She could not process the implications made against Darrell. She couldn’t rest and take a nap before the big dinner party that night where all of Darrell's coworkers would be mingling in their living room. Holly didn’t find herself in a party mood anymore. She didn’t know whether to confront Darrell or not. She didn’t even know if she could trust Blythe. Blithe always seemed a little off.

 

            Holly addressed the details of the evening’s gathering in a perfunctory manner. She did not have any heart or soul left in her. She missed Percy. Oddly, she missed him chasing the chickens everywhere.

 

            Immersed in her thoughts, Holly went about finding her grandma’s china, the one with gold leafing, turquoise and sapphire detailing, and ecliptic design in raspberry wine. As she drew the favored treasure from within its protective case tucked in her hall closet, something slipped out and landed on her right foot. Whatever it was had been stuck to the bottom of the china casing it was in. Holly’s whole being became caustic. A ruby dog collar resembling Percy’s was wrapped in old newspaper. Upon closer inspection, Holly found crusted blood and matted hair wrapped around the collar choking it with knots. Percy had likely met a dark demise Holly ruminated.

 

            One of her grandma’s cups crashed on the wooden floor, shattering it across the front landing by the stairs. Holly grabbed the phone in a steadfast mode.

 

 

            “Dr. Fielding?” Holly’s voice cracked.

 

 

            “Is that you Holly?” The good doctor replied.

 

 

            “Yes, yes…um, do you remember my dog Percy?” Holly trembled.

 

 

            “Why yes, what a dear pup.” Dr. Fielding confirmed.

 

 

            “How did he die?” Holly wanted to throw up. She felt her stomach churn, though she hadn’t eaten since that morning. “I know it’s late but…”

 

 

            “It’s okay, I’ve finished up here,” Dr. Fielding interrupted. “He had a peculiar stool while here at the clinic. I ran samples but they were inconclusive. I do believe that dog was poisoned. Strange, whoever would do such a thing to such a fine soul?”

 

 

            “Sir, I think something happened to Percy.” Holly began to sob.

 

 

            “Are you okay Holly?” Dr. Fielding began to question.

 

 

            “No, I found some blood in the garage and I found some blood in the closet and his collar had blood…” Holly wept uncontrollably.

 

 

            “What do you mean? He had his collar…he didn’t look hurt…” Dr. Fielding muddled.

 

 

            “Yes! I saw the blood, he had his hair on stuff here…he was…I think he was killed!” Holly babbled.

 

 

            “No, you have it all wrong. There was no blood on Percy. He was fine. Only when he had the strange bloody stool did I suspect something was wrong.”

 

 

            “How do you know for sure?” Holly was delirious.

 

 

            “Because, there were no injuries in any stage of healing on that dog.” Dr. Fielding attested.

 

 

            Holly could tell Dr. Fielding would not provide any further information about Percy and that he was perturbed by her inquisition. “Thank you, Dr. Fielding, thank you.” Holly hung up the phone.

 

 

            As Holly went about cleaning up the broken china, she decided to question her husband about the place settings for that evening. It would be a larger crowd than usual for them and she wanted to make sure she was clear about how many people would attend.

 

 

            “Hello, can I talk to Darrell Everten? He is in the D wing tonight. I just have a quick question.” Holly adjured.

 

 

            “I’m sorry, who ma’am?” The young lady from WestfordCollege was probably in her early thirties.

 

 

            “Darrell, Darrell Everten. He’s having his Final Seminar with Dr. Crandall Willits.”

 

 

            “No ma’am, don’t see him here. You must have it wrong there are no Darrell's on the registry. Can I help you with something else?”

 

 

            “No, no, thanks.” Holly slammed the phone down. She wailed in her corkscrewed position on the floor. Why, she lamented to herself, was everything falling apart?

 

           

            “Miles?” Holly smeared the tears off her chin and tried to collect her thoughts and remain poised. She had been weeping for at least an hour.

 

 

            “Howzit bokkie, ready for the Braai?” Miles casually said in his strong Southern African accent.

 

 

            “Yes, I need to ask if Darrell told you how much of the barbeque to make for tonight.” Holly inquired.

 

 

            “I’m bringing a moerse piece of meat to the Braai~probably 25 pounds of sausage and beef. This is going to be befok!” Miles said excitedly. Holly knew when he described something as befok he believed it was stellar.

 

 

            “Ok. I can’t get a hold of him at the college…”

 

 

            “That’s nooit…” Miles balked, not believing what Holly was saying even before she could finish.

 

 

            “They said he wasn’t registered there…” Holly tried to reiterate her statement prior to being interrupted.

 

 

            “Probably a moegoe that answered the phone.” Miles backfired.

 

 

            “No, I don’t think she was stupid, she definitely knew what she was doing and rechecked the registry for me. I don’t think she would lie…” Holly defended the administrative assistant.

 

 

            “Don’t make me lag at that! You’ll be okay bokkie!” Miles chuckled. “Just let me bring the meat over and we’ll make this lekker, eh?”

 

 

            “I hope lekker means great Miles because I’ve had a shitty day.” Holly asserted.

 

           

            Darrell's coworkers began to trickle in circumspectly to the wide living room enveloped by bay windows. The scent of cinnamon candles saturated the air commingling with the apple pies that Holly tended to for two days. The smells danced freely with rhythm of the tones the barbeque made. Laughter and giddy chitchat clamored with the scuffling of footsteps and chairs being rearranged. Glasses with wine that Toby brought from his cousin’s vineyard clanked like off key chimes. Blythe was notably absent from the festivities. She didn’t like large gatherings and Holly thought odiously that it was best she wasn’t present. Miles served the main course of the meal and then dematerialized from the scene and drank heavy amounts of wine on the back porch. He didn’t seem himself that night, more withdrawn than usual.

 

            Holly checked on Miles later in the night, noting he was pickled by then, hardly able to sit straight on the back porch. She overheard him talking on the cordless phone, most likely to Blithe. “You need to hou jou bek sister! Yes, ek se’, shut up!” Miles began to ramble inaudibly and then more recognizable speech came streaming from his slobbery lips, “I’ve had my hole-full with you, ja~Blythe! You need to make a decision!” He murmured into the phone’s receiver. “Ma se poes! You will always be one, moegoe. I don’t care if you are my sister.” Miles seemed to hear something because he looked back towards Holly’s direction, where she was standing near the kitchen sink looking out the window near the back porch. Holly ducked from the glow of the solitary back porch lamp. She didn’t believe Miles spotted her. Just then, she heard Miles utter something prodigious. “Gaan vlieg in jou moer! Don’t ever call me a moffie again hoer!” Miles slammed the phone into the flowerbed adjacent to the porch steps. Holly couldn’t believe it. Miles being homosexual explained so much about his mysterious distaste towards women and lack of dating all these years.

 

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2 comments

Lady_E profile image

Lady_E 7 years ago from London, UK

Interesting Read.


AsherKade profile image

AsherKade 7 years ago from Texas Author

thanks! I can't wait to publish the other 8 chapters!

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